I 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


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•SmMM^MmM 


;« 


THE    PURSUIT. 


THE 


TWO-LEGGED  WOLF 


N.   N.   KARAZIN. 

(ILL  US  TR  A  TED     li  }  '     THE    A  U  THO  R  .  ) 

TRANSLATED    FROM    TIIK    RUSSIAN'    HV 

BORIS  LAN  IN. 


CHICAGO    AND    NFAV    YORK: 

RAND,  McNALLY  &  COMPANY. 

1894. 


Copyright,  1894,  by  Rand,  McNally  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.   The  Two-Legged  Wolf,      -  -        7 

II.   Good  People  in  a  Good  Place,  15 

III.  Before  the  Storm,    -  -      21 

IV.  "Beginning  to  Boil,"    -  27 
V.   The  Camp  of  the  White  Blouses,  -      31 

VI.   The  Captive,       -  37 

VII.   The  Sister  of  Charity,        -  -      41 

VIII.    In  the  Officers'  Circle,  46 

IX.   Shadows,        -  -      53 

X.   What  Old  Dostchak  Told  his  Companions,     -  58 

XL   A  Deserter,     -  -      69 

XII.   Laborers  from  a  Plundered  Caravan,  75 

XIII.  The  Report,  78 

XIV.  Atam  Kul,  82 
XV.   The  Kata-dshil  (Sand-storm),  -      91 

XVI.   A  Sad  Morning,  99 

XVII.    In  Pursuit,      -  -     103 

XVIII.   The  Rescue,        -  108 

XIX.   Waiting,  -     117 

XX.    The  New  York  Herald  Correspondent,  121 

XXI.    The  White  Blouses,  -     128 

XXII.    Tracks,      -  130 

XXIII.  Adam  Krilgan,  -    134 

XXIV.  Dostchak  and  His  Bottle,         -  137 
XXV.   At  the  Other  Wells,  -     140 

XXVI.   Sardiba-Kul  and  Utch-Chuchak,  146 

XXVII.   News,  -     152 

XXVIII.    Dostchak  Conceives  a  Plan,     -  153 

XXIX.    "  I  Am  a  Mother,"    -  -     166 

(5) 


CONTENTS. 


PART    SECOND. 

CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

XXX.  The  Flight,  171 

XXXI.  Beyond  the  Russian  Camp,  176 

XXXII.  Atam  Kul's  Mob,  181 

XXXIII.  Mat  Murad's  Headquarters,  -     185 

XXXIV.  The  Harem  of  Mullah  Atam  Kul,  196 
XXXV.  Providence,     •                         -  -    207 

XXXVI.  Dostchak  Turns  Up  Again,  214 
XXXVII.  The  General's  Letter,  -    216 
XXXVIII.  Trial  and  Punishment,  220 
XXXIX.  A  Few  Words  of  the  Khan  and  His  Subjects,         227 
XL.  Again  in  the  Officers'  Circle,     -  230 
XLI.  Reminiscences  —  Old  Acquaintances,  -    238 
XLII.  Dostchak  and  His  Baggage,     -  246 
XLIII.  Excitement  and  Gatherings,  •    248 
XLIV.  And  What  If—?  257 
XLV.  An  Unexpected  and  Undesired  Move,  -            -    259 
XL VI.  Enemies,  -  267 
XLVII.  Overtaken,  •    270 
XLVIII.  Found,  280 
XLIX.  A  Very  Disagreeable  and  Difficult  Situation,      •    284 
L.  The  Letter  of  Sergei  Nikolaievitch  and  the  An- 
swer to  It,      -  297 
LI.  The  Decision  of  Natalia  Martinovna  and  the  Re- 
sults of  Rovitch's  Challenge,  -    311 
LII.  Epilogue,  317 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  WOLF. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

IN  the  hot,  yellow  sand  stood  a  wooden  stake,  painted 
red.  The  lower  portion  of  this  stake,  imbedded  in  the 
soil,  was  shod  with  iron;  at  its  upper  end  there  was  a 
short  crosspiece,  and  upon  it  sat,  its  feathers  bristling, 
a  handsome  hunting-falcon,  dreaming  —  the  sharp,  ras- 
cally eyes  covered  by  the  opaque,  transverse  eyelids. 

The  bird  seemed  the  embodiment  of  perfect  immo- 
bility. From  the  little  red  cap  fitted  to  its  small 
shapely  head  down  to  the  little  silver  chain  which  fast- 
ened its  leg  to  the  crosspiece  it  resembled  a  thing 
carved.  He  never  moved;  not  one  of  the  little  bells 
which  adorned  the  collar  around  the  bird's  neck  gave 
forth  a  sound,  and,  as  if  drawn  by  hand,  the  short 
bluish  shadow  cast  by  the  bird  lay  sharply  defined 
upon  the  reddish-yellow  background  of  sand. 

Two  greyhounds,  lean,  gaunt,  and  nearly  hairless,  with 
inflamed  tongues  protruding,  lay  flat  upon  their  sides, 
and  but  for  the  barely  perceptible  movement  of  their 
clearly  defined  ribs  they  would  have  been  taken  for 
carrion  rather  than  for  living  animals  ready  at  the  first 
motion,  at  a  single  faint  summoning  whistle  of  their 
master,  to  jump  up  and  scan  the  boundless  steppe  — 
to  fly  like  arrows  over  the  wave-like,  friable  sands, 

(7) 


8  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

which  to  the  eye  appeared  to  have  neither  ending  nor 
beginning. 

A  handsome,  showy  horse  —  a  blooded  Turkoman 
stallion  —  covered,  in  spite  of  the  scorching  heat,  with 
a  heavy  blanket,  also  stood  motionless  near  by;  the 
clean,  sinewy  fetlocks  of  its  forelegs  hobbled  with  a  thin 
woolen  rope.  The  costly  bridle,  ornamented  with 
silver,  turquois,  and  carnelians,  was  lightly  attached  to 
the  horn-shaped  bow  of  the  saddle,  maintaining  the 
graceful  bend  of  the  swan-like  neck.  The  remainder 
of  the  horse-trappings  were  lying  close  by,  arranged  in 
the  most  scrupulous  order.  It  was  evident  that  a  very 
experienced  hand  had  placed  them  thus,  and  that  the 
same  hand  was  ready  with  a  single  motion  to  swing  the 
whole  load  upon  the  horse's  crupper  and  fasten  it  on  in 
spite  of  its  apparently  complicated  nature.  There  was 
a  pair  of  "  korshuns,"  or  saddle-bags,  made  of  the  costly 
Khivan  carpet  known  as  "  kisil-tirnak  "  ;  a  leather  case 
with  cups,  the  so-called  "  kalmyk-bash  "  or  "terkesh," 
ornamented  with  long  rawhide  tassels;  a  gourd-kalyan, 
or  water-pipe,  with  silver  mountings,  a  long  reed  stem, 
and  a  skillfully  embossed  copper  bowl;  a  goatskin 
water-vessel,  warped  and  wrinkled  from  long  exposure 
to  the  heat;  a  pair  of  long-barreled  Persian  pistols,  the 
muzzles  resting  in  sockets;  and  a  bag  of  woolen  tissue 
for  oats,  half-filled. 

In  addition  to  the  falcon,  the  horse,  and  the  grey- 
hounds, there  was  still  another  living  creature,  though 
it  was  difficult  to  regard  it  as  such.  Why  should  a  liv- 
ing being  lie  so  long  in  such  an  evidently  uncomforta- 
ble position  ? 

This  other  being  was  a  man.  He  lay  stretched  out 
at  full  length,  with  his  arms  under  his  head,  his  eyes 
piercing  the  boundless  gray  depth  of  the  burning, 


THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF.  9 

scorching  sky  overhead.  The  broad  brim  of  his 
slashed  felt  hat  protected  a  pair  of  oblique,  blinking 
eyes,  and  cast  a  shadow  dividing  the  bronzed  high 
cheek-boned  face  into  two  distinct  parts. 

The  man  was  dressed  in  a  loose  cloak  of  camel's-hair 
cloth,  under  which  garment  another,  bright  red  in 
color,  was  visible,  with  edges  embroidered  in  gold 
braid.  The  glaring  pattern  of  his  voluminous  red 
trousers,  also  embroidered  in  silk  of  various  colors, 
shone  in  the  sunlight.  The  feet  were  clad  in  soft 
leather  socks,  with  green  heel-pieces,  and  shoes  with 
high,  narrow  heels  shod  with  silver-notched  steel. 

Beside  him  lay  a  costly  "klynch,"  or  saber,  in  a  scab- 
bard of  black  shagreen- work,  and  with  a  white  bone 
hilt,  set  with  stones  of  various  colors,  chiefly  turquois, 
and  ornamented  with  tassels;  a  double-barreled  gun  of 
Russian  make,  and  a  Russian  revolver  in  leather  case, 
which  was  attached  by  a  white  cord  to  the  wide  metal- 
plated  belt.  In  addition  to  these  arms  there  was  also 
a  whole  collection  of  knives  suspended  from  the  belt, 
and  various  smaller  articles  needed  in  warfare  or  on 
the  road  —  flints  and  steel,  wire  primers,  etc.,  and, 
finally,  a  wallet  of  red  "  safian  "  leather,  embroidered 
in  silver. 

A  little  removed  from  this  motionless  group,  at  the 
bottom  of  a  shallow  ravine  overgrown  with  dry  acan- 
thus thorns,  lay  another  horse,  without  saddle  or  bridle. 
The  eyes  of  this  horse  were  staring  wide  in  the  chill  of 
death;  its  long-benumbed  legs,  shod  in  the  Turkoman 
fashion,  were  stretched  out  at  full  length  after  the  last 
convulsive  scraping  through  the  heated  sand. 

This  was  no  temporary  immobility.  Here  was  a  real 
corpse.  All  doubt  on  this  subject  was  easily  dispelled 
by  observing  the  dry,  wide-open  nostrils  of  the  animal 


10  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

and  noticing  the  myriads  of  small  desert  ants  making 
their  unceremonious  entry  into  their  uttermost  cavities 
and  emerging  again,  unhindered,  into  the  light  of  day. 
It  was  not  even  necessary  to  enter  into  such  details;  to 
inhale  the  tainted  air  was  quite  sufficient. 

"Ah  !  may  the  dog  catch  me,  but  that  smells  good, 
especially  upon  an  empty  stomach!  After  having  noth- 
ing to  eat  for  the  last  four  days  this  seems  perfectly 
delicious.  From  which  side  can  I  best  get  at  i.t?;", 

Thus,  probably,  thought  a  stunted  desert  wolf  who 
had  long  since  been  attracted  by  the  tainted  air,  but 
who  had  not  yet  summoned  up  sufficient  resolution 
to  emerge  from  the  rubble  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  ravine  and  draw  nearer  to  the  tempting  morsel, 
which  was  evidently  destined  for  the  salvation  of  such 
as  he,  with  stomach  debilitated  from  long  fasting  and 
tormented  by  the  pangs  of  hunger. 

"  And  what  has  he  planted  himself  down  there  for, 
with  his  dogs?"  thought  the  wolf,  as  he  lay  flat  upon 
the  ground,  his  sharp  snout  barely  distinguishable  from 
the  gray  soil.  "  He  has  rested,  he  has  eaten,  and  he  has 
fed  his  horse  —  now  he  should  go  on  his  way  and  .not 
keep  others  from  eating.  With  what  an  air  of  impor- 
tance he  spreads  himself  out,  the  rascal  !  as  if  the 
whole  desert  existed  only  for  his  benefit.  Well,  if  he 
felt  such  gnawing  in  his  entrails.  Ah!  if  I  could  snatch 
just  a  wee  morsel!  He  may  not  notice  it." 

And  the  wolf  began  to  move  gently  forward.  He 
had  barely  stirred  when  he  glanced  about.  The  horse 
moved  its  well -shaped  ears;  the  red,  bloodshot  eyes  of 
the  dogs  opened  slowly.  A  muffled,  ominous  growl 
was  heard.  Mortal  fear  seized  upon  the  small  four- 
footed  rover,  pervaded  his  whole  being,  and  suddenly 
suppressed  the  vivid  calls  of  biting  hunger. 


THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF.  11 

The  wolf  drew  back,  and  once  hidden  from  view,  he 
crawled  back  farther;  then,  springing-  to  his  feet,  away 
he  flew  behind  the  sandy  ridges  and  hillocks.  For  a 
long,  long  time  he  could  not  summon  sufficient  courage 
to  draw  nigh  again  to  the  spot  from  which  the  tempting 
smell  spread  through  the  hot  desert  air,  causing  a  nerv- 
ous twitching  of  his  sharp-pointed,  cunning  snout. 

An  hour  passed  by,  and  still  another,  and  with  them 
the  fears  of  the  wolf.  The  hunger  gnawed  more 
viciously  than  ever  at  his  vitals.  He  drew  nearer  once 
more  and  looked.  The  horse  still  stood  motionless; 
the  dogs  still  lay  stretched  out  in  exactly  the  same  spot. 
Like  a  stuffed  bird,  placed  there  as  a  decoy,  the  falcon 
sat  upon  his  crosspiece,  and  without  moving  a  single 
muscle  or  changing  his  position  in  the  least,  like  a  life- 
less corpse,  the  resting  warrior  lay  extended  upon  the 
sand. 

Again  the  starving  animal  began  to  ponder.  "  Why, 
in  the  devil's  name,  does  he  lie  there  ever  .since  morn- 
ing? Does  he  imagine  the  fallen  horse  will  ever  get 
upon  its  legs  again?  Is  he  waiting  because  he  dreads 
to  go  on  with  a  single  horse? " 

The  blazing  sun  began  to  decline  in  its  course  toward 
the  west;  beneath  it  purple  shadows  began  to  gather, 
and  a  faint  approach  to  coolness  became  perceptible  in 
the  air.  A  tint  resembling  the  reflection  of  a  distant 
conflagration  gradually  overspread  the  horizon,  and 
the  summits  of  ridges  and  hillsides  appeared  as  if 
smeared  with  fresh  blood  along  their  margin,  while  the 
more  prominent  heights  and  isolated  rocks  scattered 
over  the  desert  cast  long,  growing  shadows  over  the 
gray,  level  sands. 

The  warrior  half-raised  himself,  sat  up,  and  glanced 
around.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his  knuckles, 


18  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

straightened  the  broad-brimmed  hat  upon  his  head, 
and  suddenly  sprang  to  his  feet,  mechanically  seizing 
his  weapons. 

The  horse  whinnied  and  strained  at  his  halter;  the 
dogs  jumped  up  as  if  bitten  by  a  snake,  and  barked 
furiously;  the  bells  on  the  falcon's  collar  resounded 
faintly. 

"Ready  for  the  road!  I  must  push  on  alone,  since 
that  one  will  never  get  up  again — the  Russian  jade!  " 
muttered  the  warrior  to  himself,  and  went,  staggering, 
over  to  his  pile  of  trappings,  among  which  the  most 
conspicuous  object  was  the  long  stem  of  his  costly  pipe. 

Here  he  put  his  smoking-apparatus  in  order,  cleaned 
out  the  bowl,  filled  it  with  fresh  tobacco  from  his 
embroidered  chamois  pouch,  struck  fire,  and  soon  was 
sending  forth  dense  clouds  of  whitish  smoke  over  the 
desert. 

Around  him  it  grew  darker  and  darker;  the  red  glare 
which  had  lighted  up  the  summits  of  hills  and  ridges 
went  out;  a  bluish  mist  rose  from  the  bottoms  of  ravines 
and  gullies. 

The  warrior  was  dreaming,  while  his  dim,  sleepy 
eyes  stared  into  the  desert  through  the  dense  swaths  of 
tobacco-smoke. 

When  a  solitary  horse  sees  or  hears  another  horse 
approaching,  it  acts  as  if  beside  itself;  it  strains  at  its 
halter  —  shifting  from  side  to  side,  stretches  its  long 
neck,  extends  its  nostrils,  pricks  up  its  ears,  whinnies 
softly  and  in  a  friendly  tone,  and  then  again  assumes 
an  expectant,  statuesque  attitude,  listening  to  the 
approaching  clatter  of  hoofs,  noting  from  afar  the 
flourish  of  tail  and  mane  of  the  strange  animal. 

The  dogs,  also  (if  they  notice  it),  can  not  keep  still  at 
the  approach  of  a  strange  rider.  Their  bark  is  heard  at 


THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF,  13 

once,  either  threatening-  to  strangers  or  glad  and  in 
welcome  to  friends,  and  they  rush  forth  to  meet  the 
new  arrival.  There  is  no  need  of  urging  them  to  such 
action. 

In  this  instance  both  horse  and  dogs  remained  per- 
fectly quiet,  while  at  the  same  time  the  bivouac  was 
being  approached  quietly  and  noiselessly  by  a  horse- 
man. The  dreaming  warrior  saw  him  plainly  between 
the  clouds  of  smoke  which  covered  the  steppe  before 
his  eyes. 

He  saw  and  noticed  the  even  progress  of  a  fresh  horse 
straight  toward  him,  without  picking  its  road;  upon  its 
back  sat  the  rider,  half-naked,  clad  only  in  leather 
trousers.  The  crooked  legs  rested  upon  the  wooden, 
felt-lined  stirrups.  The  hands  held  neither  bridle  nor 
whip;  they  hung,  as  if  paralyzed,  motionless  at  the 
sides  of  the  body,  which,  in  turn,  appeared  as  if  strung 
upon  wire.  There  was  no  hat  on  the  head  of  the  rider, 
and  the  warrior  could  plainly  see  his  purplish,  blood- 
shot face  and  protruding  eyes  with  yellowish  whites, 
the  swollen  end  of  the  tongue  convulsively  pressed 
between  the  decaying,  uneven  teeth.  At  the  nape  of 
the  rider's  neck  could  be  seen  a  knotted  woolen  rope, 
and  from  the  knot,  along  the  back,  hung  the  end, 
frayed  and  tattered  from  constant  friction  against  the 
wooden  saddle-tree,  not  covered  with  cloth,  as  is  the  fash- 
ion of  Kirghiz  saddles.  The  thin  chestnut  horse,  hang- 
ing its  head  and  nodding  its  white-starred  forehead  at 
every  step,  advanced  without  any  apparent  lifting  of 
its  legs,  which  did  not  seem  to  touch  the  earth.  The 
dry  grass  and  thorns  did  not  bend  or  rustle  under  its 
feet.  It  came  across  the  ravines  without  descending  to 
the  bottom,  as  if  passing  through  the  air  from  one 
ridee  or  hillock  to  the  other. 


14  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

There  was  something  uncanny  about  the  progress  of 
this  strange  rider.  It  seemed  as  if  he  ought  to  have 
reached  the  warrior  smoking  his  water-pipe  long  ago, 
but  all  the  time  the  distance  between  them  had  nei- 
ther increased  nor  diminished.  The  rider  apparently 
remained  stationary,  but  the  horse's  legs  kept  up  their 
purposeless  motion,  and  up  and  down  bobbed  the  white- 
starred  forehead. 

One  pair  of  eyes  only,  staring  straight  into  the 
smoke,  saw  this  rider.  Neither  the  Turkoman  horse, 
nor  the  dogs,  nor  even  the  falcon  from  under  his  red 
cap  saw  him  at  all.  They  did  not  hear  him  or  feel  his 
approach.  Before  them  the  boundless  space  extended 
in  death-like  stillness,  and  they  remained  quietly  in 
their  places.  What  did  it  matter  to  them  if  under  the 
stupefying  influence  of  his  strong  tobacco  their  master 
saw  a  vision? 

"Leave  me,  Yunus!  leave  me!"  muttered  the  war- 
rior, in  scarcely  audible  tones.  "  Why  do  you  always 
haunt  me?  What  do  you  want  of  me?  Of  course,  I 
am  guilty  before  you  —  I  sold  you!  sold,  yes,  sold  you! 
Go,  go,  go!  leave  me!  " 

And  the  warrior  overthrew  his  pipe  by  a  sudden 
backward  movement.  He  trembled,  resting  his  elbows 
upon  the  ground,  never  removing  his  eyes  from  a  cer- 
tain spot,  and  paying  no  attention  to  his  surroundings. 
He  did  not  notice  the  smoking  and  smoldering  of  his 
camel's-hair  cloak,  upon  which  a  live  coal  had  fallen 
from  the  bowl  of  his  pipe. 


GOOD  PEOPLE  IN  A  GOOD  PLACE.  15 

CHAPTER  II. 

GOOD  PEOPLE  IN  A  GOOD  PLACE. 
"MlRZA!  " 

"Aye?" 

"  You're  not  asleep? " 

"Why  should  I  sleep.     I've  .slept  all  day." 

"  Do  you  see  anything  good? " 

"Below,  only  darkness;  above,  the  stars  —  there  is 
nothing  else  to  be  seen." 

"  You  will  never  see  him!  " 

"He'll  come.  If  not  this  night,  then  to-morrow. 
That  is  sure!  as  sure  as  that  they  call  me  Osman  and 
you  Sharip,  and  your  pock-marked  countryman  SaM 
Bey." 

"That  will  do!  All  the  same,  one  may  come  from 
the  Tekke  Oasis  in  four  days,  and  here  we  have  seen 
the  sun  set  six  times  already.  As  for  me,  I  fed  the  last 
handful  of  oats  from  my  bag  to  my  horse  yesterday 
evening." 

"  Perhaps  something  happened  to  him  on  the  road. 
On  the  road  anything  may  happen  —  good  or  bad!  " 

"  The  bad  comes  oftenest,  especially  when  the  black 
spirit  roosts  on  one's  shoulders." 

"Spirit!  nonsense!" 

"  Why  not?  They  roam  from  one  end  of  the  desert 
to  the  other.  Perhaps  I  have  seen  them  —  and  not  I 
alone — " 

"  What  did  you  see,  Mirza? " 

"  What?  It  is  night  now  —  in  the  daytime  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it." 


16  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  That  is  foolish  babble.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  All  goes 
according  to  Allah's  will!  " 

"  Dawn  will  soon  break;  it  is  beginning  to  feel 
colder." 

"  Yes,  the  wind  is  beginning  to  stir  above.  Do  you 
'  hear  the  rustling  of  the  thorns?  You  can  always  hear 
that  toward  morning." 

Thus  talked,  from  sheer  loneliness,  the  bandits  of  the 
desert,  Osman  and  Sharip,  who  flattered  each  other  with 
the  aristocratic  title  of  "  Mirza." 

One  of  them  lay  flat  on  his  face  at  the  very  top  of  the 
rocky  bank  of  a  dry  ravine,  covered  from  head  to  foot 
with  his  cloth  mantle,  and  looking  out  from  beneath, 
striving  to  see  something  in  the  foggy  shadows  of  the 
impenetrable  darkness  of  night  in  the  desert.  The 
other  "  Djigit,"  or  desert-rover,  was  lying  a  little  lower 
down  on  the  slope,  also  bundled  up  in  his  warm  cloak. 

Neither  of  them  slept — no  more  than  the  other  four 
men,  whose  somber,  uncertain  shadows  could  be  dis- 
cerned below,  at  the  very  bottom  of  the  ravine,  where 
the  remains  of  a  camp-fire  still  shone  in  ruddy  glow, 
faintly  reflected  in  the  metallic  portions  of  their  arms 
and  accouterments. 

This  was  a  small  party  of  roving  "  Yow,"  or  desert 
people,  who  had  been  bivouacking  for  several  days  in 
the  valley  of  Utch-Kuduk  (three  springs),  named  thus 
because  there  were,  and  still  can  be  found,  in  this  neigh- 
borhood three  holes,  half -filled  with  sand,  in  which  a 
small  quantity  of  turbid,  brackish  water  gathers  peri- 
odically—  enough,  perhaps,  to  satisfy  about  ten  thirsty 
stomachs. 

This  water  was  very  bad  —  djaman-soo;  people  had 
to  be  driven  beyond  all  restraint  of  squeamishness,  or 
to  be  nearly  dead  with  thirst,  before  they  would  drink 


GOOD  PEOPLE  IN  A  GOOD  PLACE.  17 

of  it.  Horses  swallowed  it  unwillingly,  in  small  sips, 
evidently  only  from  necessity;  camels  alone  seemed  to 
enjoy  it,  and  licked  up,  with  evident  satisfaction,  the 
fetid,  slimy  ooze  which  covered  the  bottoms  of  the  wells. 

All  around  lay  the  sun-burned  desert,  gray  and 
stern  of  aspect.  The  winds  roamed  over  it  in  a  fitful, 
unsteady  way,  driving  before  them  in  all  directions 
columns  of  dust,  which  filled  the  eyes  of  travelers,  and 
picked  up  in  their  flight  bits  of  the  gray  sage-brush, 
shaping  them  into  spherical  "  desert-witches,"  together 
with  pieces  of  dry  dung,  bird-feathers  left  from  some 
vulture's  meal,  and  pieces  of  paper  dropped  by  passing 
travelers. 

In  the  summer  there  were  solitude,  heat,  and  ashy 
dust,  gaunt,  hungry  wolves,  and  absence  of  all  food 
and  water.  In  the  winter,  solitude  and  frost  again  find 
the  same  gaunt,  hungry  wolves,  driven  by  famine  to 
throw  themselves  upon  each  other  for  the  sake  of  a 
piece  of  dry,  sinewy  flesh. 

This  uninviting,  deadly  region  does  not  enjoy  a  good 
repute,  and  no  wonder.  The  large  caravans  describe  a 
long  circuit  around  this  cursed  place;  they  pick  their 
route,  be  it  ever  so  much  longer,  where  water  is  more 
plentiful.  The  small  caravans  have  other  fears,  and 
prefer  to  shape  their  course  through  more  inhabited 
regions.  And  why  should  they  not  dread  it  when  they 
were  liable  at  Utch-Kuduk  to  run  against  such  good 
people  as  are  now  found  there  encamped?  From  such 
good  people  the  farther  away  the  better. 

"  We'll  soon  have  a  long  road  before  us,"  began 
Osman,  after  a  brief  silence.  "  Eh,  Mirza,  do  you  hear 
me?" 

"Oh,  yes!  I  was  dreaming  a  little.  Did  you  say 
there  was  anything  stirring? " 


18  THK    '1  \VO-I, EGGED    WOLF. 

"  May  Satan  carry  thee  away  upon  his  crooked  horns! 
I  say  we  shall  have  to  undertake  a  long  journey." 

"  We'll  not  go  far;  we  will  not  go  all  the  way  with 
him;  we  will  wait  for  Sadik  at  Adam  Krilgan.  And 
then,  you  know,  the  Khan  has  given  orders  not  to 
trouble  the  Russians  as  long  as  they  can  not  get  their 
long  tail  (baggage  train)  out  of  the  sand." 

"The  sand  is  death  to  them  and  death  to  us!  "  mut- 
tered Osman. 

"Well,  we  shall  not  perish  —  we  belong  to  the  coun- 
try. Do  you  hear? " 

"  What? " 

"A  horse  running." 

"'Sh!     Don't  stir!" 

Both  the  rovers  bent  their  ears  to  the  ground  and 
listened  attentively.  For  about  three  seconds  a  deathly 
silence  reigned,  broken  only  by  the  faint  crackling  of 
the  fire  below  and  the  sighing  of  the  wind  that  always 
precedes  the  dawn. 

"Four  feet — there  should  be  eight,"  said  Osman,  as 
he  lifted  his  head. 

"  Four,"  confirmed  Sharip. 

Having  exchanged  these  brief  remarks,  the  men 
again  set  themselves  to  listen. 

A  faint  streak  of  light  began  to  extend  along  the 
horizon.  Fainter  and  fainter  grew  the  twinkling  stars, 
disappearing  entirely  before  the  rapidly  spreading  belt 
of  light. 

The  red  morning  dawn  sweeps  from  the  vault  of 
heaven  all  the  small  sparks  of  light  —  only  one  star 
struggles  a  little  longer,  flashing  like  a  diamond  and 
darting  its  twinkling  beams.  But  this  one  also  disap- 
pears. Half  the  sky  lights  up  in  rosy  reflection;  a 


iOOD    PEOPLE    IN    A    GOOD    PLACE. 


GOOD  PEOPLE  IN  A  GOOD  PLACE.  19 

golden  light  pours  over  the  steppe,  driving  before  it 
the  blue,  smoky  shadows  of  night. 

"  There  he  is!  "  shouted  Osrnan. 

"  He  is  coming,"  concurred  Sharip. 

These  exclamations  at  once  brought  to  their  feet  all 
their  companions,  and  caused  them  to  climb  up  out  of 
the  ravine. 

"One  horse  —  there  is  no  man;  it's  his  horse,  the 
bay  racer — the  white  horse  is  not  there;  the  saddle 
hangs  on  one  side  —  there's  something  wrong.  Allah's 
will  be  done!  " 

While  giving  vent  to  these  broken  observations 
Osman  tightened  his  belt,  girded  up  his  cloak,  and 
gradually  approached  his  horse,  which  was  tied  not  far 
away. 

Three  of  the  men  had  already  started  their  horses  at 
full  speed  toward  the  solitary  racer,  with  the  costly  sad- 
dle hanging  at  his  side. 

The  frightened  stallion  glanced  at  them  cautiously, 
pricked  up  his  ears,  drew  back,  snorted,  and  then  stood 
still,  having  at  last  recognized  old  acquaintances  in 
both  horses  and  men. 

They  brought  the  racer  to  the  camp,  surrounded  him, 
and  began  a  close  inspection. 

"There's  no  blood  —  no  bullet  has  touched  the  horse, 
no  sword  or  lance;  the  horse  has  been  in  no  fight," 
Osman  gave  as  his  opinion. 

"  Yes;  the  horse  has  not  been  fighting,"  remarked  an 
old  white-haired  robber,  after  having  carefully  looked 
into  the  large  black  eyes  of  the  blooded  animal. 

"But  is  it  his  horse?"  queried  another,  dressed  in 
an  old  rusty  coat  of  mail. 

Nobody  replied  a  word  to  this  question.  All  only- 
looked  askance  at  the  queer  fellow,  shrugging  their 
a 


20  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

shoulders  contemptuously.  Who  of  their  brother 
rovers  of  the  steppe  did  not  know  the  warrior  Atam 
Kul,  who  had  run  away  from  the  Russians?  Who  had 
not  seen  him  on  this  very  mettlesome  racer,  which  had 
not  its  equal  on  the  whole  right  bank  of  the  Amu? 

The  "yow"  were  puzzled  and  somewhat  disconcerted 
—  grave  doubts  began  to  weigh  upon  their  minds. 
They  were  here,  waiting  for  Atam  Kul.  Word  had  been 
brought  to  them  from  him  that  he  would  be  at  Utch- 
Kuduk  at  this  time.  "The  Mirza  is  coming,"  they  had 
been  thinking,  "  to  get  us  together.  At  the  '  Three- 
legged  Camel '  [the  name  of  another  watering-place]  he 
will  get  seven  more.  Farther  on,  at  Ka-la-at,  another 
party  is  waiting.  Well,  Mirza  Atam  Kul  will  gather 
them  all  under  his  standard.  He'll  lead  us  —  where  will 
he  lead  us  to?  Ah!  Allah  knows  where.  We  know  noth- 
ing as  to  that  —  that  is  his,  Atam  Kul's  business.  But 
now  —  what  shall  we  do  now?  In  place  of  the  captain 
only  his  horse  has  come.  What  shall  we  do  now? " 

The  frightened,  doubting  rovers  consulted  for  a  long 
time,  until  Osman  helped  them  out  of  their  difficulty; 
and  upon  his  command  they  mounted  their  horses, 
seized  the  riderless  racer,  and  set  out  at  a  gentle  trot 
upon  the  tracks  made  by  the  iron-shod  hoofs  of  the 
horse  of  Atam  Kul. 

"  Perhaps  we'll  find  out  what  we  want  to  know,"  said 
Osman.  "  Perhaps  we  may  find  him,"  he  continued, 
hopefully. 

"  Dead? "  queried  curtly  the  white-beard. 

"And  if  he  be  dead,"  broke  in  suddenly  he  of  the 
rusty  coat  of  mail  — "  he  had  good  clothes,  a  saber  and 
daggers;  he  has  a  bag  with  money — why  should  all 
that  be  lost? " 

In  this  view  of  the  situation  the  wolfish  nature  of 


BEFORE    THE    STORM.  21 

these  rovers  revealed  itself,  and  full  play  was  given  to 
their  brutal  instincts. 

A  pack  of  hungry  wolves  is  racing  along  in  single 
file  —  an  old,  experienced  wolf  is  in  the  lead.  Paff!  a 
shot.  The  animals  jump  aside  and  look  about;  they 
pay  no  attention  to  their  trail  or  the  enemy  in  sight, 
but  throw  themselves  upon  their  leader,  who  is  perish- 
ing from  a  piece  of  lead  under  his  left  leg.  "  Why  should 
the  meat  be  left  to  spoil?  Farther  on  we  may  find 
nothing,  but  here  is  food  all  ready  for  us." 

In  this  frame  of  mind  the  pack  which  emerged  from 
Utch-Kuduk  set  out  in  the  same  direction  in  which 
Osman  and  Sharip  had  been  watching  all  night,  to 
throw  themselves  upon  their  leader,  Mirza  Atam  Kul. 


CHAPTER  III. 

BEFORE    THE    STORM. 

FOUR  years  ago,  just  after  the  devastation  of  Bokhara, 
alarming  premonitory  rumors  began  to  spread  all  over 
the  steppes. 

In  all  the  independent,  roving  camps,  which  had 
sided  more  or  less  openly  with  Khiva,  the  people  were 
convinced  that  they  would  speedily  take  up  arms  again 
and  resume  the  conflict,  of  which  God  only  knows  the 
beginning  or  when  the  end  will  be.  They  felt  sure 
that  the  battles  of  Samarkand  and  Zarabulak,  which 
caused  the  downfall  of  the  Emir  of  Bokhara,  would  not 
remain  without  consequences  for  their  own  Khan, 
whom  most  of  them  blamed  for  his  feeble  support  of 


22  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

the  neighboring  ruler  during  his  war  with  the  "  white 
blouses."* 

The  tribes  hostile  to  Russia  felt  convinced  that  this 
submissive  and  undecided  action  of  the  Khan  was  taken 
intentionally. 

"Just  wait!  The  Russians  will  get  after  you  too,  and 
then  the  Bokhara  people  will  pay  you  back  in  the  same 
coin!"  Such  expressions  could  be  heard  among  the 
nomad  tribes.  They  were  echoed  under  the  felt  roofs 
of  their  "kibitkas,'!  and  carried  by  the  wind  over  the 
steppes,  reaching  finally  the  more  luxurious  felt  houses 
and  stone  dwellings  of  those  nearest  to  the  Khan. 

The  tribes  of  Chodor,  Solor,  and  even  the  distant 
Tekke,  talked  openly  of  war.  The  peaceful  "  Uzbeks," 
the  farmers  and  gardeners  of  the  Khivan  Oasis,  also 
took  up  arms.  The  latter,  however,  scarcely  knew 
against  whom  they  would  use  their  weapons  —  their 
antediluvian  matchlocks,  their  crooked,  sickle-shaped 
sabers,  and  reed  lances  —  whether  against  the  white 
blouses,  who  had  not  yet  made  their  appearance,  or 
against  their  boisterous  roving  neighbors,  the  Turko- 
mans, who  had  more  than  once  exhibited  their  readi- 
ness to  take  up  arms  either  for  the  faith  and  the 
prophet,  for  the  preservation  of  their  ancient  customs, 
or  simply  for  the  sake  of  war,  skillfully  concealing  their 
true  motives  under  the  mask  of  duty  and  feudal  sub- 
mission to  the  Khan  of  Khiva. 

The  Khan's  condition  at  this  time  was  peculiar,  and 
not  entirely  devoid  of  a  comical  aspect. 

Shah  Nazar  of  Persia,  in  a  verbal  discussion  of  the 

*  "  White  blouses  "  or  "  white  shirts"  is  the  name  given  by  the 
Central  Asiatics  to  the  Russian  soldiers  on  account  of  their  white 
canvas  campaigning  uniforms. 


BEFORE    THE    STORM.  23 

state  of  affairs  at  the  court  of  Khiva,  painted  the  situa- 
tion as  follows: 

"The  Khan  Said  Mahomet-Rachim  has  two  ears  and 
but  one  brain;  two  hands  and  but  one  body.  With 
each  ear  he  hears  a  different  story;  with  one  hand  he 
drives  the  Turkomans  into  the  field,  with  the  other  he 
keeps  the  Uzbeks  at  home.  What  would  the  Khan  do? 
He  must  cut  himself  in  two  or  incline  to  one  side  or 
the  other.  Which  side  was  the  strongest?  The  Uzbeks 
prayed,  '  Do  not  go,  do  not  stir!  remember  our  fields, 
gardens,  and  orchards,  our  houses  and  families.'  The 
Turkomans  —  the  great-grandchildren  of  Satan,  whom 
nothing  can  restrain,  cried,  'Go  on  !  What  are  you 
afraid  of?  Do  you  not  know  us?  Haven't  we  been  bring- 
ing you  our  saddlebags  full  of  Russian  heads  for  the 
last  two  months?  Haven't  we  strewn  the  sands  of  the 
desert  with  white  blouses?  If  you  do  not  go  it  will  be 
the  worse  for  you.  You  have  received  our  earnest- 
money,  and  you  know  what  kind  of  an  army  we  can 
put  into  the  field.'  " 

At  the  Khan's  summer  residence,,  in  the  meantime, 
complaints  came  pouring  in  from  the  peaceable  Uzbeks. 
Here  the  Chodor  tribe  had  driven  off  stock;  there  the 
Karas  had  sacked  a  whole  village,  carrying  all  the  girls 
and  young  women  away  with  them.  In  another  place 
all  the  boats  on  the  Amu  Daria  had  been  seized,  and 
such  exorbitant  charges  made  for  ferriage  that  suffer- 
ing and  disorder  resulted.  What  could  the  Khan  do 
against  them? 

"Wait!  "  he  wrote  to  the  nomads  on  the  left  bank  of 
the  river.  "  If  the  Russians  are  coming,  we  will  meet 
them  in  war.  I  shall  not  make  peace.  If  they  do  not 
come,  I  shall  not  begin  war,  and  then  I  shall  have  my 
hands  free  for  the  others." 


24  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

The  Uzbeks  secretly  rejoiced  when  they  heard  of 
this  letter.  They  felt  convinced  that  the  white  blouses 
would  not  initiate  hostilities.  "  They  will  soon  be 
here!"  consoled  themselves  the  Turkomans.  "But  if 
they  linger,  we  will  hurry  them  up;  we'll  cut  them  to 
the  quick,  and  thus  call  them."  And  then  there  was 
inaugurated  a  very  effective  system  of  "  cutting  to  the 
quick." 

Khivan  emissaries,  sent  out  by  the  party  desirous  of 
war,  began  to  scatter  over  the  steppes  and  to  show 
themselves  in  the  midst  of  the  roving  tribes  who  had 
been  subjected  to  Russia  for  more  than  ten  years. 
These  adroit  agitators,  who,  according  to  the  written 
instructions  found  upon  some  of  them,  were  expected 
to  have  "long  noses  and  glib  tongues,  the  daring  of  the 
tiger,  the  persistence  of  the  wolf,  the  cunning  of  the 
fox,  and  the  speed  of  the  hare,"  overran  the  sandy 
region  between  the  Caspian  and  Aral  seas.  They  even 
penetrated  into  Emba,  and  stirred  up  the  Kirghiz, 
instigating  them  to  open  revolt,  promising  the  most 
active  support  and  protection  from  Khiva. 

The  nomads  listened  to  these  emissaries  with  much 
curiosity  and  the  greatest  attention.  The  old  men 
smiled  and  shook  their  heads  incredulously.  They  well 
remembered  their  unfortunate  experience  of  former 
years.  The  young  men  would  perhaps  have  answered 
the  call,  but  were  restrained  by  the  doubts  of  their 
elders,  who  outweighed  them  in  council;  and  a  majority 
of  the  agitators  met  with  no  success,  though  they  gath- 
ered around  them  a  few  audacious  individuals  in  whom 
the  inborn  thirst  for  plunder  and  violence  was  only 
slumbering,  leaving  a  constant  desire  for  the  changing 
fortunes  of  war  and  brigandage  in  preference  to  the 
monotonous  routine  of  peaceful  times. 


KEFORE    THE    STORM.  25 

In  the  sands  of  the  "  Little  Horde  "  and  "  Great  Horde  " 
small  bands  of  "sheepskin  caps"  began  to  form  and  to 
"  explore  "  the  caravan  routes  of  Kazalinsk.  Rumors 
of  disorders  on  the  roads  became  more  and  more  fre- 
quent at  the  military  stations.  Attacks  were  reported 
upon  the  postal  stations  of  the  Orsk-Kazalinsk  district. 
A  few  stations  in  the  Kara-Kum  also  suffered,  the 
horses  being  driven  off  and  the  Cossacks  guarding 
them  carried  into  captivity.  The  wounded  and  killed 
were  carried  to  Kazalinsk  from  the  various  roads,  and 
a  general  panic  ensued. 

The  merchants  called  for  armed  forces  for  their  pro- 
tection, and  not  receiving  them,  suspended  trade.  Small 
mounted  detachments  sent  out  into  the  steppes  chased 
in  vain  "the  wind  over  the  ground,"  as  the  Cossacks 
aptly  expressed  it;  the)r  exhausted  themselves  and  their 
horses,  and  returned  to  their  stations  without  having 
attained  any  definite  results. 

All  the  plundered  merchandise,  the  stolen  cattle,  and 
captured  prisoners  were  taken  to  Khiva  and  neighbor- 
ing settlements,  where  they  found  eager  purchasers  in 
the  local  markets. 

Entirely  independent  of  the  Khivan  agitation,  a  revolt 
broke  out  in  the  steppes  of  the  "  Middle  Horde,"  in 
1870,  and  found  the  most  active  support  on  the  banks 
of  the  Amu.  Disaffected  individuals,  tribes  guilty  of 
breaches  of  the  peace,  and  camps  of  nomads  fled  to  the 
river  to  escape  just  punishment.  The  name  of  Sadik, 
a  relative  of  the  well-known  Ablai  Kenissar,  and  famous 
as  a  warrior,  began  to  be  heard  again  in  the  steppes, 
attracting  to  his  familiar  standard  the  houseless  rovers 
from  the  utmost  confines  of  the  desert. 

In  answer  to  inquiries  from  the  Russian  authorities, 
the  Khan  replied  that  he  was  not  the  cause  of  all  these 


26  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

disorders,  and  that  he  was  a  sufferer  himself  from  the 
warlike  spirit  prevailing;  that  he  was  not  able  to  cope 
with  the  Turkomans.  "  Perhaps  the  Russians  them- 
selves would  like  to  measure  swords  with  them  .'"added 
he,  not  altogether  without  a  double  meaning. 

At  that  very  time  couriers  were  daily  leaving  the 
Khan's  summer  palace  with  letters  and  costly  presents 
for  the  Emir  of  Bokhara.  Said  Mahomet  Rachim-Khan 
inquired  of  Emir  Mosaphar  what  the  latter  intended  to 
do  if  the  Russians  should  go  to  Khiva  through  the  out- 
skirts of  his  own  dominions.  The  war  party  at  Bokhara 
also  began  to  lift  its  head  and  to  murmur.  But  the 
Emir  Mosaphar  distinctly  remembered  the  disasters  of 
1868.  He  could  not  forget  Samarkand  and  Zarabulak, 
and  he  could  not  ignore  the  gallant  revenge  of  Karsh 
and  Shegrisiabs.  The  Emir  knew  well  what  he  would 
do  —  a  few  troublesome  heads  severed  from  their 
bodies  soon  quieted  the  warlike  agitators. 

Over  the  endless  steppes  the  "  ominous  mist "  was 
getting  thicker  and  thicker,  and  before  long  this  omi- 
nous mist  began  to  be  tainted  with  a  decided  flavor  of 
blood. 

These  troubled  times  dragged  along  for  months  and 
years.  The  storm  was  gathering  overhead,  the  atmos- 
phere was  sultry,  and  there  was  no  break  in  the  clouds. 
Some  reaped  advantage  from  the  unsettled  state  of 
affairs  and  some  suffered.  The  latter,  dreading  to  leave 
their  felt-roofed  houses,  drew  nearer  about  them  their 
scattered  droves  and  herds;  the  former  roved  about 
over  the  steppes,  chiefly  in  the  direction  where  the  first 
encounter  with  the  white  blouses  was  to  be  expected. 

The  deserts  of  Kizil-Kum  began  to  fill  up  with  peo- 
p'.e;  that  was  patent  to  everybody.  Even  the  wolves 
and  vultures  began  to  increase  in  these  fateful  regions. 


"  BEGINNING    TO    BOIL."  27 

Four-footed  and  winged  robbers  scent  their  quarry 
from  afar. 

And  there  from  the  east,  beyond  the  Nuratin-Tow, 
the  gusts  of  desert- wind  came  laden,  not  only  with 
sand  and  dust,  but  with  the  alarming  cry: 

"  The  white  blouses  are  coming!  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 
"BEGINNING  TO  BOIL." 

THE  band  from  Utch-Kuduk  did  not  advance  very 
far.  After  halting  once  to  give  their  horses  a  breath- 
ing-spell, they  were  about  to  set  out  again,  when,  far 
away  along  the  uncertain,  wavelike  horizon  of  shim- 
mering, mirage-laden  desert-air,  there  appeared  a  few 
diminutive  black  dots. 

The  sharp  eyes  of  Osman  were  the  first  to  notice 
them;  he  bent  back  in  his  saddle  and,  trotting  ahead, 
gave  warning:  "What  is  that  over  there?" 

"  Ours,"  replied  the  rider  next  to  him,  turning  as  pale 
as  the  dust  of  the  road,  and  preparing  to  unfasten  the 
matchlock  from  behind  his  shoulder.  The  rovers, 
now  thoroughly  alarmed,  gathered  in  a  group  and  stood 
still. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you? "said  Osman,  grin- 
ning through  his  teeth,  while  looking  to  his  weapons. 
"  How  will  you  have  it?  Are  they  our  people? " 

"  They  are  running  fast!  Somebody  is  after  them  — 
that's  sure.  Ah!  look,  look!  how  they  whip  their 
horses." 


28  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  Retreat! "  shouted  Sharip,  shaking  in  his  saddle 
with  laughter. 

The  little  band  of  "  sheepskin  caps  "  obeyed  this  cry 
only  too  willingly.  They  wheeled  around  at  a  full 
gallop,  but  when  they  noticed  that  Sharip  himself  did 
not  stir,  they  reined  in  their  horses  and  turned  around 
again,  one  by  one. 

"Easy,  my  friends,  easy!  Oh,  what  warriors!  Ha, 
ha,  ha!  "  shouted  Sharip.  "Oh,  you  cowards,  you  chil- 
dren of  Satan!  " 

"  You  are  one  of  his  sons  yourself!  Perhaps  you  have 
never  been  near  the  white  blouses,  or  you  would  not 
talk  so  foolishly,"  snarled  one  of  the  bandits. 

"  Ha,  ha!  I  see  how  you  will  fall  upon  the  Russians 
as  soon  as  Mirza  Sadik  gives  the  word  of  command. 
You  will  charge  as  you  did  just  now  —  the  wrong  way! 
I  see  how  it  will  be." 

"  It  would  be  better  for  you  to  look  over  there. 
Don't  you  see?  Those  are  our  men  from  the  Three- 
legged  Camel,  but  behind  them  you'll  see  other 
people." 

"Those  from  the  Khala-at  are  also  with  them. 
There  is  Vai'tak,  my  chum;  I  can  tell  him  by  the  gallop 
of  his  horse.  Oh!  how  he  jumps  —  like  a  goat.  There, 
there!  Well,  something  must  be  wrong." 

The  distance  between  the  flying  horsemen  and  those 
awaiting  them  was  rapidly  growing  less.  The  color  of 
the  horses  could  already  be  easily  distinguished,  and  it 
was  possible  to  see  how  furiously  the  men  lashed  their 
exhausted  steeds. 

"  Why  do  they  press  them  so  unreasonably? "  muttered 
Osman. 

Two  of  the  advancing  horsemen  were  much  ahead  of 
the  others,  and  kept  nearly  side  by  side.  The  saddle- 


"  BEGINNING    TO    BOIL."  29 

bags  of  one  had  become  detached  by  the  rapid  gait,  or 
perhaps  they  had  not  been  fastened  well  because  of 
hurry,  and  the  rider  kept  them  in  place  with  one  hand. 
The  faces  of  both  of  them  showed  alarm  —  the  eyes 
shifting  from  side  to  side  as  if  trying  to  discover  some- 
thing on  the  distant  horizon.  Their  lips,  dry  and 
cracked  from  the  rapid  motion  through  the  air,  were 
half -open;  the  hair  of  their  scanty  beards  stood  on  end, 
and  was  thickly  powdered  with  the  dust  of  the  desert. 

The  horses,  covered  with  lather,  breathed  laboriously, 
especially  one  of  them,  from  whose  inflamed  nostrils 
drops  of  blood  were  issuing,  together  with  a  shrill, 
spasmodic  whistle. 

"He's  done  for!  "  exclaimed  Sharip,  who  had  recog- 
nized the  ominous  sound  from  a  distance. 

"What  is  the  news? "  bawled  Osman  at  the  top  of  his 
voice. 

The  foremost  horseman  bounded  ahead,  after  trying 
in  vain  to  rein  in  his  horse.  He  attempted  to  say  some- 
thing, but  succeeded  only  in  pointing  with  his  hand 
toward  Utch-Kuduk  as  he  hurried  along. 

"  Russians!  "  yelled  the  other  as  he  went  flying  over 
his  horse's  head,  plowing  up  the  deep,  dusty  soil  with 
his  red,  perspiring  face.  The  unfortunate  overdriven 
animal  had  not  strength  enough  left  to  arrest  its  mad 
gallop,  and  involuntarily  discarded  its  master. 

An  alarmed  discussion  at  once  arose  in  the  little 
group  of  horsemen,  which  the  other  fugitives  joined 
one  by  one,  until  there  were  about  twenty  of  them 
together. 

Among  the  arrivals  were  two  Turkomans  from  be- 
yond the  Amu  Daria,  wearing  striped  cloaks.  Both 
came  in  some  distance  behind  the  others  —  not  because 
their  horses  were  more  exhausted,  but  because  they 


30  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

purposely  held  them  back.  Their  bridles  were  drawn 
tight,  the  thin  chain-bits  cutting  the  mouths  of  their 
tired  horses,  which  were  still  striving  to  forge  ahead. 

"  Make  haste  for  Utch-Kuduk!  "  shouted  one  of  the 
men. 

"We'll  talk  as  we  go!  "  added  the  other,  turning  to 
Sharip. 

"  Are  you  Atam  Kul's  men? " 

"  Maybe   we   are,"  replied  he,  evasively. 

"  Where  is  he? " 

"Ah!  we  wanted  to  ask  you  that  question." 

"H'm!"  grunted  the  Turkoman,  and  slackened  his 
bridle.  "  Hurry  up!  get  along!  "  shouted  the  other;  and 
the  whole  band  was  soon  in  full  flight. 

"  The  Russians  have  come  to  Khala-at;  Mat  Murat 
was  too  late  to  close  the  road  for  them.  Nias  and 
Sadik  are  said  to  be  awaiting  them  at  Min-Bulak," 
said  one  of  the  Turkomans,  gruffly — "  the  ravens!  The 
Cossacks  came  to  the  Three-legged  Camel  and  beat  off 
our  men.  They'll  make  for  Utch-Kuduk  next,  and  then 
we'll  be  without  any  water.  We  need  a  day  to  feed  the 
horses  and  let  them  drink,  and  fill  our  bags  with  water; 
if  they  don't  catch  up  with  us  before,  the  'giaours!' 
They  march  early,  without  tiring  themselves,  but  they 
cover  a  great  deal  of  ground  in  a  day.  They  have  no 
wagon-trains,  but  many  camels;  one  can't  pass  their 
columns  in  two  hours,  with  the  fastest  horse.  So  many 
stomachs  require  a  great  deal  of  water.  If  they  drive 
us  from  the  wells,  ten  Sadiks  could  not  prevent  them 
from  reaching  the  Amu  without  any  battle." 

"Water  in  the  steppe  is  life;  no  water  is  death," 
laconically  added  the  other  Turkoman,  and  these  words 
had  a  strange  effect  upon  the  hearts  of  these  rovers  of 
the  steppes.  A  great  dread  came  over  them.  Many  of 


THE    CAMP    OF    THE    WHITE    BLOUSES.  31 

'them  shuddered  as  they  glanced  furtively  about  them. 
All,  without  exception,  urged  on  their  horses. 

The  panic  which  had  seized  upon  the  fugitives  from 
the  Three-legged  Camel  communicated  itself  to  those 
from  Utch-Kuduk.  They  were  all  running,  running  as 
if  flying  before  a  prairie-fire  or  an  advancing  flood; 
they  were  flying  like  a  giraffe  before  the  whistle  of 
the  hunter's  bullet  —  flying  like  wild  horses  before  the 
threatening  slipnoose  of  the  lasso.  They  strove  to 
seize  upon  the  small  store  of  rotten  salt-water  —  which 
was  life,  and  timidly  glanced  at  the  scorched,  sun- 
dried  steppe  —  which  was  death. 

In  other  parts  of  the  desert,  also,  small  mounted  par- 
ties were  running,  and  single  scattered  horsemen  were 
spurring  their  steeds. 

They  had  been  waiting  for  the  white  blouses,  and 
now  they  had  come  almost  unexpectedly.  It  was  a  sur- 
prise, though  a  surprise  for  which  the  whole  steppe  had 
been  preparing  for  the  last  four  years. 

"  Water  means  life  —  no  water,  death  !  "  These  words 
of  the  Turkoman  were  truly  prophetic. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    CAMP    OF    THE    WHITE    BLOUSES. 

THESE  yellow,  drifting  sand-dunes,  over  which  the 
hot  wind  blew  in  gusts,  sweeping  together  and  scattering 
again  the  loose  dust  of  the  surface,  had  never  seen  such 
numbers  of  people  —  people  altogether  strange  to  the 
country,  and  unfamiliar;  clad  in  short  white  blouses  and 


32  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

red  leather  trousers,  armed  with  Berdan  rifles;  people 
who  came  to  these  places  for  the  first  time,  but  bore 
themselves  as  masters,  as  if  entirely  at  home  on  the 
sand-hills. 

Their  bivouac  covered  a  vast  space.  Everywhere 
along  the  foot  of  the  ridges  could  be  seen  the  glistening 
bayonets  of  stacked  arms,  and  the  red  rags  of  weather- 
worn guidons,  flapping  gently.  Here  and  there  small 
fires  were  burning,  and  tents  loomed  up  in  many  places. 
Immovable,  buried  in  sand  almost  to  the  axles,  stood 
the  field-pieces;  behind  them  rows  of  green  caissons, 
and  back  of  them  again  rows  of  stunted,  clumsy  horses 
at  the  picket-ropes.  Then  more  rows  of  stacked  mus- 
kets, more  guidons,  and  more  sheds  and  tents.  And  in 
the  midst  of  all  these  —  some  sleeping  or  dozing,  in 
groups  or  singly,  others  squatting  or  sitting,  doing 
something,  as  busy  and  restless  in  bivouac  as  they  are 
calm  and  collected  in  action  —  could  be  seen  the  white 
blouses. 

Isolated  infantry  sentries  loomed  up  on  the  outlying 
ridges  of  the  higher  sand-dunes;  farther  away,  and 
barely  visible  through  the  dust  and  the  smoke  of 
camp-fires,  were  the  mounted  pickets;  single  horsemen 
trotted  from  one  vidette  to  the  other,  occasionally 
ascending  the  more  prominent  sand-hills  and  looking 
long  and  carefully  into  the  distance  as  if  they  expected 
something  that  must  surely  appear  along  the  greenish, 
wavelike  horizon. 

More  than  anywhere  else  the  people  gathered  about 
the  gaping  black  apertures —  the  wells;  here  the  talk- 
ing and  turmoil  were  loudest.  There  was  constant 
coming  and  going.  They  came  running,  swinging 
their  empty  kettles,  buckets,  teapots,  and  every  imagi- 
nable vessel  that  could  be  carried  on  the  march.  From 


THE    CAMP    OF    THE    WHITE    BLOUSES.  33 

the  wells  they  went  slowly,  and  not  hurrying  in  the 
least  —  balancing  carefully  the  precious  fluid  obtained 
with  so  much  difficulty. 

The  wells  were  not  all  in  one  place;  they  were  scat- 
tered along  the  winding  gullies.  By  connecting  these 
points  with  lines,  one  could  obtain  an  irregular  figure 
corresponding  exactly  with  the  outline  of  the  whole 
bivouac,  if  observed  from  above,  from  the  point  of  view 
of  those  two  vultures  that  have  followed  the  expedition 
from  its  first  camp,  and  now  seem  to  feast  their  eyes 
on  their  prospective  prey. 

All  this  activity  of  the  bivouac,  all  its  social  life  and 
all  its  living  interests,  center  at  the  wells  —  they  are  its 
nerve-centers. 

The  Turkestan  expedition  had  arrived  in  the  region 
of  Khala-at  only  yesterday.  All  knew  that  it  was 
impossible  to  move  forward  from  here  very  soon,  and 
therefore  all  strove  to  establish  themselves  as  quietly 
and  conveniently  as  possible,  if  quiet  and  comfort  were 
not  out  of  the  question  in  this  terrible  god-forsaken 
country. 

Ahead  of  them,  that  is,  in  the  direction  in  which 
pointed  the  muzzles  of  the  cannon,  now  closed  with 
wooden  tampions,  there  spread  out  an  entirely  un- 
known waste  —  terrible  according  to  its  misty  traditions 
and  the  tales  of  disaster  which  filled  the  hearts  of  all 
with  a  secret  and  almost  superstitious  dread. 

"Look  there!  Do  you  see  it?"  one  of  the  native 
train-servants  whispered  to  his  Russian  taniyr  (friend, 
chum). 

"  What  is  there  to  see? "  replied  the  other  after  taking 
a  heroic  pull  at  his  strong  pipe.  "  There  is  only  sand 
—  nothing  else." 

"  Look !      Here    you    see    hills    now,    and    yonder 


34  .  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

ravines,"  said  the  Kirghiz,  pointing  far  afield  with  his 
claw-like,  black  and  almost  charred  finger.  "  If  a  storm 
should  come  up  in  the  night,  you  will  see  what  there  is 
to-morrow.  Where  the  hills  are  now  there  will  be  hol- 
lows, and  where  the  hollows  are  now  there  will  be  hills." 

"  Well,  there  is  some  kind  of  a  road? "  inquired  the 
chum. 

"  Road?  There's  no  road;  no  roads  at  all.  The  roads 
are  those  upon  which  the  will  of  Allah  may  lead  you; 
there  is  no  other  road." 

"Nu!  what  a  country!" 

"What  do  you  want  to  go  there  for?"  You  must 
not!  No  man,  or  camel,  or  horse  can  stand  it." 

"That  will  do." 

"  I've  heard,"  here  chimed  in  a  young  voice  from 
another  group  of  white  blouses  — "  the  fellows  in  my 
company  told  me  —  that  once  the  Emir  of  Bokhara  led 
his  troops  into  this  place,  and  that  his  whole  army  was 
buried  in  the  sand,  and  that  nobody  knows  now  where 
they  perished." 

"  Tell  us  some  more  lies!  "  gruffly  interrupted  an 
overgrown  non-commissioned  officer,  with  bristly  and 
pimpled  face. 

"  They  call  it  Adam  Krilgan,"  comes  from  a  third 
group;  "that  means  in  our  tongue  'Man's  Perdition.'" 

"Well,  we  shall  have  a  look  at  this  Man's  Perdition!" 
bragged  a  boisterous  bugler.  "  It  is  just  such  a  road  as 
that  to  the  Holy  Land.  Now,  Brother  Kossolapkin,  did 
they  drive  you  away  from  the  wells  with  your  tea- 
kettle? What  are  you  carrying  an  empty  vessel  for? " 

"  Chase  me  away? "  grumbled  the  dissatisfied  Kosso- 
lapkin; "no,  indeed.  Some  riflemen  captured  my  water 
and  drank  it  up  for  me  on  the  way.  '  You  can  go  again,' 
they  said;  '  we  must  go  to  the  picket-line' — the  rascals! " 


THE   CAPTIVE. 


THE    CAMP    OF    THK    WHITE    BLOUSES.  35 

0  What  a  shame!     I'd  like  to  drench  them!  " 

And  again  a  timid,  constrained  voice  could  be  heard: 
"  No  bird  flies  over  it,  brethren,  and  no  animals  run 
into  it." 

"  First  of  all  comes  Providence,  and  second,  our  supe- 
riors. If  they  order  us  to  go,  we'll  go;  and  suppose  a 
bird  doesn't  fly  there;  well,  let  him  keep  away  —  we  do 
not  need  him  at  all."  Thus  struck  into  the  conversa- 
tion a  stately  orderly  sergeant,  with  two  crosses  of  St. 
George  on  his  breast.  "Spread  your  felt-mats  and 
talk  no  more  nonsense.  Second  relief,  fall  in!  Lively, 
there!  "  he  shouted,  seating  himself  upon  a  bale  that 
had  not  been  unpacked. 

The  soldiers  were  not  alarmed  —  at  least  that 
would  have  been  the  impression  of  anybody  look- 
ing upon  these  faces;  faces  with  and  without  mus- 
taches—  some  sun-burned  and  almost  bronzed;  oth- 
ers dead- white,  as  if  consumptive;  others,  again,  red 
and  bloated  and  framed  in  bristly  side- whiskers;  all, 
without  exception,  evidently  occupied  with  their  every- 
day necessities  —  the  cleaning  out  of  the  old  water- 
holes  half -filled  with  sand;  the  digging  of  new  wells; 
the  procuring  of  water,  the  demand  for  which  was 
never  satisfied  and  seemed  to  be  increasing,  the  wells 
scarcely  yielding  a  sufficient  supply. 

On  the  top  of  a  natural  tiimulus  a  small  fortification 
was  being  erected  —  a  few  protective  bastions  were 
gradually  rising  from  the  sand  above  the  surrounding 
desert.  Somewhere  a  drum  was  beating,  and  from 
another  direction  came  the  shrill,  melancholy  notes 
of  a  bugle.  A  chorus  of  singers  *  attempted  to  start 

*  Each   Russian  regiment  has  a  trained  chorus  of  singers  to 
cheer  the  men  on  the  march  and  in  camp. —  TRANSLATOR. 
3 


36  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

up  a  song  with  hoarse,  half-strangled  voices,  but  they 
gave  it  up  —  evidently  they  were  not  up  to  singing  yet. 

In  spite  of  all  this  outward  appearance  of  calm,  an 
uneasy  feeling  oppressed  everybody's  heart.  These 
blinking  eyes,  inflamed  by  heat  and  dust,  oftener  and 
oftener  lifted  themselves  from  the  work  in  hand  and 
gazed  into  the  distance,  over  the  endless,  shifting  sands, 
in  the  direction  of  Adam  Krilgan  —  which  means 
"  Man's  Perdition." 

In  the  officers'  tents,  also,  this  underlying  anxiety  was 
noticeable.  All  in  the  Russian  camp  dreaded  those 
fatal  sands,  and  all  strove  to  get  into  them.  Behind 
them  lay  the  blossoming  settled  regions — full  of  life; 
ahead  of  them  stretched  the  sands —  where  death  reigns 
supreme.  If  each  of  them  had  been  offered  the  free 
choice,  to  go  back  or  to  go  ahead,  not  a  single  man 
would  have  been  found  wishing  to  return.  They  were 
building  fortifications  —  that  meant  the  detachment  of 
a  small  garrison  to  guard  them.  All  knew  that  this 
was  necessary,  but  they  dreaded  being  selected  to  stay 
behind  in  safety  more  than  they  feared  the  sands,  more 
than  the  burning  heat,  the  deathly  thirst  —  more  than 
anything  else  in  the  world. 

The  sick  declared  they  were  gaining  strength  —  they 
put  on  a  bold  face  and  feigned  to  be  well;  the  weak 
strove  to  outdo  the  strong.  They  built  the  low  mud 
walls  and  bastions  all  the  same,  cursing  the  while  the 
unwelcome  toil. 

They  were  all  Russian  soldiers  — the  old  battalions 
of  the  Turkestan  expedition.  In  their  ranks  could  be 
found  the  heroes  of  Tashkent,  Uratube,  Dshuzak,  Ird- 
shar,  Samarkand,  Urgut,  Shegri-Sabsa,  Karsh,  and 
Zarabulak.  It  was  unusual  to  meet  a  white  blouse 
belonging  to  this  corps  unadorned  with  a  dirty,  frayed, 
striped  piece  of  ribbon. 


THE    CAPTIVE.  3> 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    CAPTIVE. 

A  PLATOON  of  Ural  Cossacks  which  had  been  dis- 
patched three  days  before  upon  a  reconnaissance  in  the 
vicinity  of  Khala-at  had  just  returned  to  the  camp. 

The  Cossacks  were  leading  about  their  sweating, 
dusty  horses  and  stretching  their  own  legs,  cramped 
from  long  riding.  A  small  group  of  them,  five  or  six, 
still  remained  in  their  saddles,  surrounding  a  strange 
horseman.  The  costume  of  this  rider  was  very  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  the  men  around  him.  He  kept  in 
the  saddle  not  by  his*  own  free  will  —  his  feet  were 
bound  with  a  rope  under  the  horse's  belly;  his  hands 
were  pinioned  behind  his  back.  Like  a  captured  wolf, 
he  cast  furtive,  suspicious  glances  from  side  to  side  un- 
der his  wide-brimmed  felt  hat.  The  camel's-hair  cloak 
he  wore  was  torn  and  blood-stained  in  places.  The 
shreds  and  stains,  the  blue  marks  on  his  face,  and  swollen 
eyes  spoke  eloquently  of  the  desperate  resistance  he 
had  made  before  falling  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 
In  addition  to  these  discolorations  and  scratches,  his 
whole  face  was  thickly  covered  with  dust,  converted 
into  a  layer  of  grease  by  admixture  of  sweat,  so  that  it 
was  difficult  to  discern  the  lines  of  this  high  cheek- 
boned  face  under  its  disgusting  mask.  Two  grey- 
hounds kept  close  to  the  prisoner's  horse  —  one  of  them 
with  a  broken  leg — lifting  their  pointed  noses  and 
whining  plaintively  at  sight  of  their  master. 

One  of  the  Cossacks  carried  upon  his  shoulder  a  hunt- 
ing-falcon with  a  red  cap;  on  the  saddle  of  another  the 


38  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOI.F. 

trappings  and  arms  of  the  captive  were  tied  in  a  clumsy 
bundle. 

The  officer  in  charge  of  the  platoon  proceeded  to  the 
commander  of  the  expedition  with  his  report,  while 
from  the  whole  camp  the  infantrymen,  artillerymen, 
and  Cossacks  began  to  assemble  to  look  at  the  captured 
warrior.  The  native  allies  also  came,  the  Kirghiz 
drivers  and  packers  from  the  camel-train,  to  look  and 
ascertain  what  kind  of  a  wild  beast  had  been  caught  by 
these  bearded  Ural  Cossacks.  They  came  from  the 
right,  from  the  left,  from  the  rear,  and  from  the  front, 
examining  everything,  and  not  at  all  backward  in  touch- 
ing the  man  and  his  belongings  with  their  hands. 
They  began  to  question  the  Cossacks. 

"  Where  did  you  hook  him?  "  inquired  a  lanky  artillery- 
man who  was  staring  and  feeling  the  angular  knee  of 
the  prisoner,  who  seemed  to  shrink  from  the  contact. 

"What  a  beast!"  exclaimed  an  undersized  infantry- 
man while  scratching  his  sunburned  neck. 

"  I  should  call  it  about  forty  versts  from  here,"  said 
one  of  the  Cossack  guards.  "  He  fought  desperately 
when  we  took  him.  We  had  all  we  could  handle." 

"  Did  you  catch  him  unawares,  or  how? "  asked  the 
artilleryman. 

"We  came  upon  him  when  he  was  asleep;  we 
could  never  have  caught  him  otherwise.  His  horse 
was  a  mettlesome,  powerful  racer ;  he  was  hobbled, 
but  broke  loose  —  the  son  of  a  devil! — and  off  he  flew 
over  the  sand;  we  could  not  begin  to  catch  him." 

"  He  bolted —  what  a  pity!  " 

"  We  captured  him  with  his  whole  outfit,  you  know," 
explained  another  "  Uraletz  "  (Ural  Cossack).  "His 
kalyan  (water-pipe)  was  ready  for  a  smoke;  all  his 
trappings  were  laid  in  order.  He  was  lying  down  flat, 


THE    CAPTIVE.  39 

his  nose  in  the  air,  and  sound  asleep  in  the  open  steppe. 
We  would  have  bound  him  while  he  slept,  but  his 
dogs  there  —  may  some  evil  spirit  fly  away  with  them! 
—  spoiled  the  game  for  us.  Well,  he  woke  up,  and  as 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  he  made  for  his  horse.  Sissoyek, 
the  sergeant  over  there,  who  was  in  command,  flew  at 
him;  the  horse  broke  away  and  ran  off,  and  both  men 
came  down  together  to  the  sand." 

"  His  only  friend  failed  him,  and  now  he  sits  here!  " 
sententiously  observed  one  of  the  Cossacks. 

"  Ah,  what  a  flyer  he  was!  We  had  such  a  chase  after 
him!  " 

"  A  she  wolf  or  bear  are  gentle  compared  to  him. 
We  beat  him  and  beat  him!  We  wanted  to  shoot  him; 
Bassun  already  had  his  carbine  at  his  shoulder,  taking 
aim,  when  the  lieutenant  —  God  help  him! — told  us  to 
take  him  alive  without  fail.  Well,  then  the  rumpus 
commenced  again."  • 

"  But  he  — didn't  he  shoot  at  all?" 

"He  fired  twice^-and  hit,  too.  He  gave  me  a 
scratch  on  the  hip.  That  cross-eyed  fellow  over  there 
threw  a  rope  over  him  from  behind  —  that  fixed  him." 

"  Where  does  he  belong?  " 

"  From  beyond  the  Amu  Daria,  he  said,  but  you  can't 
believe  him.  All  kinds  are  running  loose  in  the  steppe 
now.  There  was  no  end  to  the  tracks  we  saw." 

"  Last  night,"  remarked  an  infantryman,  "four  came 
up  in  front  of  our  picket-line.  They  stood  and  stood 
on  a  sand-hill,  and  away  they  went  again!  " 

"  We  went  as  far  as  the  Three-legged  Camel.  There 
they  had  another  camp.  One  well  they  filled  up,  the 
rascals;  into  the  second  they  threw  a  dead  dog;  the 
third  was  left  all  right.  The  cursed  band  of  robbers! 
Pfoo!  "  The  Cossack  pretended  to  lift  his  hand  against 


40  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOI.I  . 

the  prisoner,  who  only  blinked  his  eyes  and  shivered 
convulsively.  "  Be  quiet,  you  fool;  I  won't  touch  you," 
the  Cossack  said  to  reassure  him. 

A  few  in  the  crowd  of  spectators  laughed,  and  one  by 
one  they  began  to  disperse,  their  curiosity  satisfied. 

The  lieutenant  returned  from  the  general's  head- 
quarters. The  unlucky  warrior  was  lifted  from  the 
saddle  and  his  legs  untied;  the  hands  were  left  pin- 
ioned. The  man  sank  heavily  upon  the  sand,  where 
he  curled  himself  up,  drawing  his  torn  cloak  over  his 
head.  Two  Cossacks,  dismounted,  were  placed  as  sen- 
tries over  him;  the  others  led  away  their  horses  to  the 
picket-ropes. 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  native  trainmen  sepa- 
rated himself  from  the  dispersing  crowd  of  spectators. 
He  was  nearly  naked,  with  a  sheepskin  cap  on  his  head, 
and  with  short  leather  trousers,  almost  worn  through 
in  places.  He  advanced  within  three  paces  of  the 
prostrate  man,  squatted  down  upon  his  heels,  and,  rest- 
ing his  chin  upon  his  hands,  began  to  gaze,  never 
removing  his  eyes  from  the  place  where  the  face  ought 
to  be,  under  the  sheltering  folds  of  the  cloak.  All  the 
strength  of  his  eyes  was  centered  upon  this  point. 

"  What  are  you  doing? "  grumbled  one  of  the  Cossack 
sentries. 

"  Am  I  in  your  way? "  asked  the  Kirghiz  in  a  whisper. 

"  Let  him  sit  there,"  said  the  other  sentry,  "  as  long 
as  he  does  nothing  else." 

"  All  right;  let  him  sit,"  consented  the  first. 

Everybody  in  the  camp  knew  old  Dostchak,  the 
Kirghiz.  They  knew  him  in  the  cavalry  as  well  as  in 
the  infantry  lines.  He  was  known  also  in  the  artillery 
division.  All  knew  him,  and  felt  convinced  that  he 
would  never  do  anything  bad,  while  he  was  known  to 


THE    SISTER    OF    CHARITY.  41 

have  done  much  good,  even  in  his  humble  position  as 
camel-driver. 

The  Cossacks  saw  nothing  suspicious  in  this  last 
whim  of  his.  Dostchak  sat  there  without  troubling 
anybody,  and  nobody  troubled  him  or  drove  him  away. 
He  never  relaxed  his  watch  upon  the  captive  warrior, 
who  slept,  or  perhaps  only  feigned  sleep. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    SISTER    OF    CHARITY. 

THE  hoarse,  disagreeable  bellowing  of  camels,  their 
sickly,  malicious  snorting,  the  disgusting  noises  of 
rumination;  the  neighing  of  horses;  the  whining  and 
barking  of  dogs;  gruff  and  hoarse  voices  of  men;  occa- 
sional shots  in  the  distance;  the  stamping  of  hoofs; 
heavy  footsteps  upon  the  hardening  sand;  the  clatter 
and  thud  of  the  sappers'  shovels  and  mattocks  —  those 
were  the  sounds  which  filled  the  air  throughout  the 
Russian  camp  and  spread  over  its  triste  surroundings, 
together  with  the  wind,  sand,  and  dust.  There  was 
nothing  in  them  that  was  joyous,  nothing  that  would 
be  in  the  least  agreeable  to  the  ear  or  that  could 
relieve  or  refresh  an  anxious,  troubled  heart. 

Everything  here  bore  witness  to  the  fact  that  all 
these  living  beings  had  not  been  brought  together  for 
purposes  of  peace  or  joy.  Nevertheless,  a  strange  note 
sounded  through  the  heated  air.  The  sound  was  feeble 
and  barely  audible;  but  it  was  unexpected,  and  of  a 
nature  to  surprise  and  perplex  any  ear  to  which  it  pen- 


42  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

etrated.  This  note  was  altogether  out  of  accord  with 
all  other  sounds,  and  strangely  inappropriate  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  eye  could  see.  In  the  general  chorus 
it  produced  an  apparent  discord.  All  surroundings 
spoke  of  war,  but  this  sound  reminded  one  of  its  very 
opposites  —  of  family,  of  love,  and  of  peace.  It  was  the 
cry  of  a  child. 

And   this  sound   at   once   evoked    another,   equally 
fresh,  caressing,  full  of  powerful,  charming  harmony  — 
the  voice  of  a  woman. 

At  about  twenty  paces  from  one  of  the  wells,  and 
sheltered  from  the  wind  by  a  protecting  ridge,  stood  a 
small  conical  tent,  shaped  in  native  fashion.  In  its 
outward  appearance  the  tent  had  nothing  to  distinguish 
it  from  others;  the  same  tightly  drawn  ropes,  the  same 
coarse  seams  running  from  the  top  of  the  cone  to  the 
very  bottom,  the  same  accumulation  of  sand  on  the 
weather-side.  All  this  could  be  seen  about  any  of  the 
many  tents  dotting  the  ground. 

Nevertheless,  this  tent  appeared  to  exert  some 
special  moral  influence.  All  who  passed  by  the  other 
tents  did  so  with  perfect  equanimity;  no  change  of 
expression  was  noticeable  in  any  of  the  passers-by 
beyond  the  customary  mechanical  motion  of  the  hand 
toward  the  visor  of  the  cloth  caps,  and  that  only  took 
place  when  through  the  narrow  three-cornered  opening 
of  some  tent  an  officer's  epaulette  became  visible,  or 
gilded  buttons  glistened,  or  a  foot  in  spurred  boot  pro- 
truded—  or  in  case  of  some  other  infallible  indication 
of  the  presence  of  a  superior. 

An  altogether  different  phenomenon  could  be 
observed  here.  To  this  tent  all  eyes  were  attracted; 
all  ears  were  bent  toward  it;  hurried  steps  were 
restrained*  Stern,  scowling  looks  softened  and  bright- 


THE    SISTER    OF    CHARITY.  43 

ened;  on  parched  lips  there  gleamed  something  very 
nearly  approaching  a  smile. 

But  whenever  the  entrance-flap  happened  to  be 
lifted,  the  common  raising  of  the  hand  to  the  visor 
seemed  out  of  place  and  without  meaning.  As  before 
something  to  be  worshiped,  something  holy  —  as  before 
the  altar  —  the  close-cropped  common  soldiers'  heads 
were  bent  low  and  the  ill-shapen  but  strongly  made 
caps  removed. 

The  interior  fittings  of  this  tent  differed  very  much 
from  those  of  others.  In  the  first  place,  the  total  absence 
of  arms  struck  the  eye  —  for  the  present  inmates  they 
were  entirely  unnecessary.  Further,  the  carpets  and 
mats  which  covered  the  ground  were  cleanly  swept, 
and  not  strewn,  as  usual,  with  ends  of  cigars  and  cigar- 
ettes, with  loose  cards  and  pieces  of  chalk,  or  leavings 
and  scraps  from  the  table.  The  inner  walls  of  the 
tent,  of  striped  adrassa  cloth,  were  not  soiled.  A  large 
iron  folding-bed,  its  blankets  covered  with  a  clean 
white  quilt  and  white  pillow-cases,  fairly  shone  with 
freshness.  Large  leather-covered  packing-boxes  bound 
with  iron  served  as  divans  and  settees.  In  one  corner 
stood  a  wooden  tub  with  water,  covered  and  protected 
from  the  sand  and  dust  which  penetrated  even  this 
neatly  kept  domicile.  Every  trifle  bore  the  impress  of 
comfort  and  neatness;  the  small  mirror,  the  towel 
hanging  from  a  peg,  the  traveling  teakettle  and  glasses, 
the  hamper  with  dishes  —  in  all  there  was  visible  the 
careful,  experienced  hand  of  the  housewife,  the  hand 
of  woman. 

In  a  light-gray  cotton  dress,  almost  short  enough -for 
an  apron,  with  a  white  muslin  kerchief  over  her  head, 
the  mistress  of  this  home  sat  on  the  bed,  talking  to  a 
child,  a  boy  of  two  or  three  years,  who  was  perched  on 


44  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

her  knee.  The  boy.  fretted  and  whimpered,  evidently 
without  any  particular  cause,  simply  because  he  wanted 
to  whimper  and  worry  a  little.  The  woman  was  striv- 
ing to  divert  him  from  his  childish  trouble  and  to  dis- 
perse his  little  cloud  of  gloom.  Her  beautiful  large 
gray  eyes  looked  upon  the  child  with  such  kindliness, 
with  an  expression  so  profoundly  loving,  that  it  was  easy 
to  recognize  the  tie  between  them.  Only  a  mother  can 
look  like  this;  only  a  mother  can  have  such  eyes. 

With  her  somewhat  toil-worn,  but  scrupulously  neat, 
hands  the  woman  stroked  the  boy's  bright  flaxen  hair, 
and  caressed  his  round,  rosy  cheeks.  Her  slender 
fingers  tickled  him  iinder  the  chin.  A  smile  glided 
over  her  sunburned  face  —  a  smile  full  of  love  and  gen- 
tleness, pleasing  and  restful,  but  in  which  there  was 
nothing  approaching,  even  remotely,  joy  or  merri- 
ment. Nor  was  there  grief  in  this  smile,  or  anything 
harsh  or  bitter  — but  there  was  in  it  something  strange 
and  unearthly. 

Angels  possibly  smile  like  this;  and  this  woman  was 
really  an  angel  to  all  who  came  in  contact  with  her. 

She  was  our  old  acquaintance*  Natalia  Martinovna 
Chishikof,  the  daughter  of  an  old  gunner  who  lived  in 
retirement  at  Chiniaz,  on  the  Syr  Daria,  a  heroine  who 
had  braved  the  privations  and  dangers  of  this  difficult 
campaign,  and  boldly  taken  upon  herself  a  heavy  but 
sacred  task. 

The  history  of  her  life  was  brief,  but  sad.  She  had 
been  carefully  brought  up  by  her  simple  and  honest 
parents,  living  peacefully  in  rural  retirement,  with  old 
Dementy,  also  an  old  soldier,  as  their  only  servant. 
What  social  life  there  was  in  this  remote  region 

*  Referring  to  the  story  "Among  the  ReedB,"  by  the  same 
author. 


THE    SISTER   OF   CHARITY.  45 

depended  chiefly  upon  the  officers  of  a  few  troops  of 
cavalry  stationed  along  the  border-line.  A  few  years 
ago,  however,  an  officer  of  the  Guards,  belonging  to  a 
prominent  St.  Petersburg  family,  had  been  sent  to  the 
"  border-swamps  "  on  special  duty.  This  military  dandy, 
finding  time  hanging  heavily  upon  his  hands,  amused 
himself  by  making  love  to  Natalia  Martinovna,  who 
was  then  just  budding  out  in  youthful  beauty.  Acci- 
dent made  her  his  nurse  while  under  treatment  for  a 
gunshot  wound,  and  fascinated  by  the  handsome  officer's 
distinguished  manners,  and  deeply  impressed  with  his 
fine  attire  and  luxurious  habits,  the  innocent  girl  freely 
gave  him  her  whole  heart,  and  in  an  unguarded  moment 
was  betrayed  under  promise  of  marriage.  The  aristo- 
cratic scoundrel,  whose  name  was  Rovitch,  soon  tired  of 
his  plaything  and  deserted  her.  Several  months  after 
his  departure  a  child  was  born  in  the  little  home  on  the 
border.  Both  the  aged  parents,  bowed  down  with  grief 
and  shame,  died  within  a  year.  In  her  loneliness  and 
desperation  Natalia  resolved  to  take  service  in  the  field, 
as  Sister  of  Charity,  with  the  army  of  Central  Asia,  then 
actively  engaged.  Unable  to  bear  separation  from  her 
boy,  she  took  him  with  her.  Old  Dementy  would  not 
abandon  his  young  mistress,  and  was  allowed  to  attach 
himself  to  the  command  and  look  after  her  safety  and 
comfort. 

Natalia  knew  well  that  in  the  most  painful  moments 
of  bodily  suffering,  in  the  anxious  minutes  of  death- 
agony,  at  times  of  dejection  and  hopelessness,  her  mere 
presence,  her  kind  caresses  and  quieting  words  of  holy 
love  and  hope  had  more  than  once  brought  consolation 
to  the  unknown  heroes,  so  rough  in  outward  appear- 
ance, but  sensitive  in  their  simple  hearts  —  the  same 
who,  in  their  soiled  white  blouses,  their  worn  leather 


46  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

trousers,  in  boots  shrunk  out  of  shape  by  the  heat,  took 
off  their  cloth  caps  and  linen  havelocks  in  reverence 
when  passing  her  tent. 

A  mother's  love  for  humankind,  especially  for  suffer- 
ing humanity,  induced  her  to  go;  a  mother's  love  for 
her  infant  would  not  permit  her  to  separate  from  him. 

These  were  the  causes  which  explain  the  presence  of 
mother  and  child  in  this  rough,  warlike  camp,  pitched 
in  the  midst  of  desert-sands,  under  the  burning,  nebu- 
lous, colorless  sky. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

IN  THE  OFFICERS'  CIRCLE. 

IT  was  growing  dark.  In  the  air  a  slight  movement 
was  becoming  noticeable,  bringing  with.it  a  barely  per- 
ceptible feeling  of  freshness. 

In  front  of  one  of  the  officers'  tents  a  large  variegated 
carpet  was  spread  over  the  sand,  and  upon  it  sat  or 
reclined  nine  or  ten  officers.  They  were  drinking  their 
muddy,  brackish  tea,  and  between  sips  blew  clouds  of 
tobacco-smoke  into  the  air. 

The  prospective  comparative  freshness  of  the  night 
had  called  them  from  their  sultry  tents,  and  loneliness 
had  driven  them  together.  Conversation  was  carried 
on  in  a  drowsy,  lifeless  manner  —  no  new  subjects  of 
talk  had  turned  up  for  ever  so  long.  Not  far  away, 
two  "  denshtchiks  "  (orderlies)  were  heating  up  small 
traveling  "  samovars,"  by  putting  little  fragments  of  dry 
dung  into  the  furnaces,  which  spread  around  them  the 
disagreeable  burning-smell  peculiar  to  this  kind  of  fuel. 


IN  THE  OFFICERS'  CIRCLE.  47 

Upon  an  iron  grating  some  meat-compound  was  slew- 
ing, with  boiling  foam  flowing  over  the  rim  and  sides 
of  the  smoke-begrimed  saucepan.  The  flames  of 
candles  were  shining  through  the  canvas  of  one  of  the 
tents,  throwing  upon  it  the  dark  shadow  of  the  back 
and  elbow  of  somebody  engaged  in  writing,  to  judge  by 
his  movements.  A  mongrel,  tailless  dog,  with  tongue 
protruding  from  one  side  of  his  mouth,  and  with  bleared 
eyes,  was  faithfully  sitting  up,  though  nobody  had  asked 
him  to  exhibit  his  proficiency.  A  stray  mule,  with 
flopping  ears,  was  wandering  around,  continually  stum- 
bling over  and  getting  entangled  in  the  tightly  drawn 
tent-ropes.  The  soldiers'  fires  gleamed  at  a  respectful 
distance  from  those  of  their  superiors,  and  beyond  them, 
back  of  the  encircling  groups  of  sitting  and  reclining 
human  figures,  red  metallic  lights  sparkled  from  the 
bayonet-points  of  stacked  rifles. 

"  It's  impossible  to  have  one's  sleep  out  on  such  a 
day  —  and  at  night  there  is  no  sleep  for  us  at  all;  it  is 
very  tiresome!"  exclaimed  Major  Pugovitzin,  at  the 
same  time  nearly  dislocating  his  jaws  with  a  yawn  that 
opened  his  mustached  mouth  from  ear  to  ear  and 
brought  some  moisture  into  his  sleepy  eyes. 

"It's  death!"  confirmed  his  friend,  Major  Birriaps. 
"  No  diversion  but  the  work  on  the  fortifications,  which, 
if  I  am  not  mistaken,  are  rapidly  approaching  comple- 
tion." Major  Birnaps  was  born  in  Russia,  or  rather  in 
Siberia,  but  he  always  spoke  Russian  with  a  German 
accent  and  not  very  correctly — a  peculiarity  which 
could  only  be  explained  by  the  law  of  heredity. 

"  Do  you  know,  gentlemen,  what  I  would  like  to  have 
now?"  said  Lieutenant  Kustikof,  half  rising,  and  then, 
becoming  confused,  subsided  again.. 

"  Prokhor  —  tea!"  shouted  the  deep  voice  of  an  officer 
with  red  side-whiskers. 


48  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  We  shall  remain  here  until  the  detachment  comes 
from  the  big  fort,"  said  Adjutant  Lokhmatof,  lying  on 
his  face  and  jingling  his  spurs. 

"  In  order  to  continue  the  proposed  movements  with 
joint  forces,"  explained  Major  Birnaps. 

"  Do  you  know,  gentlemen,"  once  more  began  Lieu- 
tenant Kustikof. 

"Yes,  my  boy;  stop  there!"  interrupted  Pugovitzin. 
"  I  want  to  ask  you  something.  Why  did  Natalia  Mar- 
tinovna  pull  your  ear  to-day?  " 

All  laughed  at  this. 

"I  struck  Shadrin,  the  drummer,  in  the  mouth. 
Natalia  Martinovna  must  have  seen  it;  she  called  me 
up,  and  —  " 

"And  gave  you  a  love-tap  —  splendid!  Prokhor — tea! " 

"  Gentlemen,  there  was  some  firing  on  the  right  flank 
to-day.  Did  you  hear  it? " 

"  The  devil  may  know.  Perhaps  the  pickets  did  it 
from  sheer  lonesomeness;  or,  as  three  days  ago,  they 
shot  at  an  eagle,  I  suppose." 

"  They  alarmed  the  whole  camp  for  nothing!  " 

"It  was  not  an  eagle.  The  Turkomans  are  coming 
very  close,"  remarked  the  adjutant.  "  I  saw  three  in 
the  distance  myself.  They  went  along  over  there 
where  our  camels  are  taken  to  pasture.  The  general 
ordered  a  platoon  out  to  meet  them." 

A  Cossack  lieutenant  on  crutches  came  up  to  the  group 
of  officers  and  stood  behind  them,  listening  to  the  con- 
versation. 

"  My  native  militiamen  told  me,"  he  began,  when  all 
turned  toward  him.  "  Yes,  the  natives  told  me  that 
Sadik  has  come  and  stationed  himself  at  the  next  wells. 
He  has  about  fifteen  hundred  men,  and  Atam  Kul  is 
with  him  also." 


IN  THE  OFFICERS'  CIRCLE.  49 

"  Which  Atam  Kul? "  began  the  major;  "  the  same 
who — " 

"Yes,  the  same,"  interrupted  the  Cossack.  "Our 
Atam  Kul.  If  we  could  but  capture  the  scoundrel! " 
Here  the  Cossack's  face  was  distorted  by  a  painful 
grimace.  He  had  stumbled  and  hurt  his  injured  knee. 

"  How  is  your  leg? "  asked  he  with  the  red  side- 
whiskers. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right.  I  can  not  walk  much,  but  on 
horseback  I  do  not  feel  it.  Perhaps  — 

"Such  a  beast  of  a  man!"  exclaimed  Pugovitzin, 
returning  to  the  previous  subject.  "  He  was  a  son  of 
the  devil  —  a  common  native,  like  our  trainmen.  They 
gave  the  animal  a  cross  and  made  him  an  officer.  He 
became  completely  Russified — and  then,  suddenly,  he 
cleared  out!  " 

"  I  heard  he  got  into  debt  when  he  was  sent  out  to 
collect  tribute  from  the  nomad  tribes." 

"He  simply  stole,"  remarked  the  Cossack.  "  Now  he 
is  considered  one  of  their  head  men." 

'•  I  remember,"  began  Birnaps,  "  on  the  march  to 
Samarkand,  we  were  playing  cards  at  Major  Gorlas- 
toi's  —  " 

"Oh,  nonsense!"  broke  in  Pugovitzin.  "Do  you 
remember  any  march  on  which  we  did  not  play  cards?  " 

"  I  say  that  I  remember  1  had  the  bank.  Many  of  the 
staff  and  line  officers  were  betting  —  " 

"Well?" 

"  Together  with  them  Atam  Kul  was  betting,  and  he 
was  behind  one  hundred  and  ten  rubles,  which  to  the 
present  day  —  The  end  of  the  sentence  was  drowned 
in  general  laughter. 

"You  have  an  excellent  opportunity  now,"  a  voice 
exclaimed  from  the  tent;  "capture  and  prosecute  him," 


50  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  I  should  certainly  prosecute  him,"  replied  the  major, 
quite  seriously. 

"What  will  be  done  with  him,  gentlemen,  if  he  is 
captured?  Will  he  be  hung  or  shot?"  inquired  Lieu- 
tenant Kustikof. 

"  Shot,  since  he  has  been  an  officer." 

"But,  in  addition,"  cut  in  the  side-whiskers,  "he 
should  be  strung  up  for  at  least  fifteen  minutes  for  non- 
payment of  a  card-debt."  He  laughed  long  and  loud  at 
his  own  humor. 

The  others  ceased  talking  for  a  time. 

"Oh,  by  the  way,"  began  the  adjutant,  "Natalia 
Martinovna  should  be  informed  to-morrow." 

"  Of  what  ? " 

"As  to  Atam  Kul.  He  was  one  of  her  most  devoted 
admirers.  I  remember  he  used  to  become  speechless 
whenever  he  saw  her.  His  eyes  used  to  burn  like  fire, 
and  he  trembled  all  over.  At  one  time  Spelokhvatof 
and  I  had  to  drag  him  away  by  force." 

The  lame  Cossack  here  tried  to  insert  a  remark,  but 
thought  better  of  it. 

"  He  asked  her  to  marry  him,  at  any  rate,  and  offered 
her  ten  thousand  sheep  as  dowry." 

"  He  once  nearly  stabbed  me  with  his  knife,  from 
jealousy,"  said  a  fusileer  officer.  "  It  was  a  dark  night, 
and  late;  you  could  not  see  a  thing.  We  had  spent  the 
evening  at  the  commanding  officer's.  Well,  Natalia 
Martinovna  asked  me  to  escort  her  to  her  quarters,  and 
that  beast  followed  us  —  he  was  simply  furious.  It  was 
lucky  that  Trubatchenko  and  Babadshak  caught  up 
with  us — 

"  I  would  have  killed  the  dastard  on  the  spot,"  broke 
in  the  Cossack.  "I  would—  He  did  not  finish  his 
sentence,  as  he  nearly  fell,  leaning  too  heavily  upon  his 


THE   SISTER    OF   CHARITY. 


IN  THE  OFFICERS'  CIRCLE.  51 

crutch,  the  iron  point  of  which  sank  suddenly  into  the 
sand. 

"  He  is  only  a  wild  animal  —  why  should  you  kill 
him? "  came  from  a  well-modulated  voice  somewhere  in 
the  crowd. 

"  At  any  rate,  he  must  be  first  captured.  When  he's 
caught,  an  example  ought  to  be  made — "  Major  Bir- 
naps  here  made  an  expressive  gesture. 

"  Three  hours  ago,"  continued  the  same  quiet  voice, 
"  I  thought  that  Atam  Kul  had  already  fallen  into  our 
hands.  I  talked  to  him,  or  at  least  tried  to.  He  didn't 
answer.  To  recognize  his  physiognomy  was  almost 
impossible.  His  face  was  all  scars  and  blood  and  dirt. 
I  will  look  at  him  to-morrow  when  they  have  washed 
him  a  little." 

"  I  noticed  him  myself,"  said  the  adjutant.  "When 
they  took  him  off  the  horse  he  limped.  You'll  re- 
member he  used  to  drag  his  right  leg  a  little.  Well, 
now  — " 

"  Now  that  can  scarcely  be  considered  as  proof," 
interrupted  Pugovitzin.  "After  a  man  has  had  his 
legs  tied  with  a  rope  under  a  horse's  belly  for  sev- 
eral hours,  there  is  nothing  astonishing  in  seeing  him 
limp  a  little;  that  is  no  proof." 

"  Are  you  speaking  of  the  warrior  the  Ural  Cossacks 
brought  in?  How  can  he  be  Atam  Kul?  I  remember 
him  very  well  indeed.  This  one  is  of  lower  stature, 
and  speaks  no  Russian  at  all;  and  as  to  his  features  — 
well,  these  cross-eyed  fellows  are  all  made  after  the 
same  pattern." 

"  That  is  true,"  confirmed  Major  Birnaps.  "  I  can 
distinguish  but  three  of  my  natives,  and  them  only  by 
their  cloaks." 

"  But,  all  the  same,  the  circumstance  is  suspicious," 

4 


52  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

sententiously  remarked  an  officer  wearing  the  epaulets 
of  the  general  staff.  "  The  matter  should  be  fully 
cleared  up.  He  must  be  questioned  and  the  facts 
ascertained;  in  a  word — " 

"  Stuff!  "  said  the  red  side- whiskers,  as  if  speaking  to 
himself. 

The  staff  officer  raised  his  head  and  frowned,  and 
disdainfully  shrugging  his  shoulders,  he  said,  audibly, 
but  as  if  to  himself,  "  The  pig!  " 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen!"  said  Pugovitzin,  raising 
his  voice,  restraining  at  the  same  time  side-whiskers' 
hand,  which  was  reaching  for  a  bottle.  The  bottle  was 
empty.  They  all  knew  this,  but  they  also  knew  what 
he  wanted  it  for;  the  major  acted  wisely,  indeed,  in 
preventing  side-whiskers  from  putting  the  bottle  to  an 
improper  use. 

"  Skilomordin,  drop  that!  This  promises  to  be  a  fine 
night,  gentlemen  —  somewhat  cooler  than  last  night. 
Vassa,  can't  you  give  us  '  The  summits  of  the  mount- 
ains? '  Tune  up!  "  - 

"  It's  all  right!  "  muttered  the  insulted  officer,  as  he 
rose  to  his  knees  and  gazed  out  into  the  darkness. 
"  The  devil  knows  what  kind  of  a  man  he  is.  I'll  watch 
him! " 

"  The  summits  of  the  mountains  sleep  in  the  mist  of  night," 
began  Kustikof  in  his  tenor  voice. 
"  In  the  silent  valleys," 

chimed  in  a  few  voices  in  discordant  chorus. 

"  I'll  give  you  a  pig!  "  The  side- whiskers  could  not 
yet  control  himself,  but  he  came  in  with  his  deep  bass: 

"  The  leaves  are  still  and  quiet." 
*##***  * 


SHADOWS.  53 

"Well,  they  began  to  hammer  him,"  whispered  one 
orderly  to  the  other,  relating  some  episode  of  his  former 
rural  life. 

"  What  for? "  asked  the  other. 

"  Oh,  because  — " 

"  Was  it  on  account  of  the  woman,  his  daughter-in- 
law?  " 

"  That  was  the  trouble.  When  he  became  her  father- 
in-law,  of  course,  there  was  an  end  of  it.  There  was 
his  son,  of  course  —  and  the  crowbar  stood  handy  in 
the  corner." 

"  That's  so.  Oh,  look  at  that  brown  thing  in  the 
sand!  " 

"  Kill  it!  kill  it!  Take  your  boot — now,  once  more! 
Draw  away  the  carpet;  it  will  get  under  the  trunk. 
Now  then,  it's  done  for!  "  Such  were  the  energetic 
expressions  accompanying  the  killing  of  a  scorpion  — 
one  of  the  plagues  of  camp-life  in  the  desert.  All 
joined  in  the  hunt  by  the  light  of  lanterns,  and  the  dis- 
gusting insect  was  dispatched  after  a  persistent  chase. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SHADOWS. 

THE  Cossack  on  crutches,  in  the  meantime,  wandered 
through  the  bivouac,  tacking  skillfully  between  the 
rows  of  sleeping  soldiers,  stepping  over  the  tent-ropes, 
and  carefully  circling  around  the  officers'  horses,  tied  to 
stakes,  which  pricked  up  their  ears  and  looked  sus- 
piciously at  the  dark,  limping  figure  passing  by.  He 
passed  through  the  whole  left  wing  of  the^bivouac,  and, 


54  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

turning  around  a  sandy  ridge,  found  himself  near  the 
water-holes,  where,  in  spite  of  the  late  hour  of  the  night, 
there  was  still  a  bustling  crowd  of  thirsty  individuals. 
Above  the  din  of  human  voices,  the  squeaking  of  blocks 
and  ropes  and  the  splash  of  water  being  poured  into 
buckets  could  be  distinctly  heard.  He  stopped  one  of 
the  soldiers  with  a  bucket  half-filled,  drank  from  it,  and 
remarked,  "  It  is  getting  a  little  clearer  and  fresher." 

"That's  so,  your  honor,  it  is  getting  sweeter  now; 
but  at  the  first  beginning — damn  it,  wasn't  it  salty!" 
answered  the  soldier. 

"Well,  goon!     Thank  you!" 

"  To  your  good  health!  "  Coming  to  a  half-front  and 
lifting  his  free  hand  to  his  cap,  the  soldier  walked  rap- 
idly away.  The  officer  stood  still  as  if  lost  in  thought, 
and  then  proceeded  in  the  same  direction,  now  disap- 
pearing in  the  darkness,  and  then  again  thrown  into 
relief  by  the  light  of  fires,  alternately  vanishing  and 
reappearing.  He  went  the  whole  length  of  the  .camp, 
and  at  last  halted  just  opposite  a  small  tent,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  about  ten  paces  from  it. 

Here  he  seated  himself  carefully  upon  the  sand, 
adjusting  his  injured  leg  in  the  most  comfortable  posi- 
tion, and  gazed  thoughtfully  at  the  objects  before  him. 

The  tent  was  lighted  within.  On  the  surface  of  its 
reddish-gray  cloth  dark  shadows  appeared,  as  if 
thrown  from  the  lens  of  a  magic  lantern.  There 
were  two  of  these  shadows,  and  though  their  outlines 
were  not  altogether  distinct,  the  most  careless  observer 
would  not  have  hesitated  to  declare  that  one  of  the 
figures  was  a  woman,  the  other  a  child.  The  child  was 
held  in  the  woman's  arms.  At  times  she  lifted 
it  up,  seizing  it  under  its  arms  —  thus  children  are 
thrown  up  in  play;  and  during  these  movements  the 


SHADOWS.  55 

little  legs  struck  out  vigorously  into  the  air,  throwing 
droll  shadows  upon  the  walls  of  the  tent. 

Both  shadows  frequently  assumed  strange,  and  even 
monstrous,  misshapen  outlines.  A  nose  would  suddenly 
stretch  to  an  unusual  length,  or  be  broken  by  a  crease  in 
the  cloth,  or  by  a  seam,  and  turn  off  in  another  direc- 
tion; or  a  hand  with  fingers  extended  like  a  gigantic 
claw  would  cover  the  whole  side  of  the  tent.  The 
folds  of  the  handkerchief  around  the  head,  or  a  whisp  of 
hair  hanging  over  the  brow,  would  suddenly  be  trans- 
formed into  odd-shaped  horns,  and  then  again  assume 
their  natural  form.  Passers-by  paid  no  attention  to 
these  weird  phantasma,  but  if  any  one  had  cared  to 
observe  them  closely  he  could  not  have  refrained  from 
an  amused  smile,  or  perhaps  would  have  broken  out 
into  Homeric  laughter. 

I  remember  observing  once  a  similar  scene  after  a 
battle,  during  which  blood  had  been  flowing  over  a  dis- 
tance of  ten  versts.  It  was  the  result  of  one  of  those 
colossal  fatal  panics  which  will  not  be  forgotten  for 
centuries  to  come,  and  in  the  course  of  which,  thanks  to 
the  growing  perfection  of  the  arms  of  civilization,  very 
few  of  our  men  perished,  but  vast  multitudes  of  "  the 
others." 

In  the  night,  not  long  before  dawn,  I  sat  exhausted 
by  the  bloody  scenes  of  the  preceding  day,  upon  a 
camp-stool,  not  far  from  the  tent  of  one  of  the  wounded 
officers,  looking  at  the  thin  canvas  lighted  from  within. 
What  misshapen,  comical  caricatures  were  thrown 
upon  the  dirty,  blood-stained  cloth! 

"  I  am  dying;  yes,"  whispered  the  wounded.  "  I  have 
a  daughter.  Ah!  she  is  alone  among  strangers.  O 
Heavenly  Father!  Ah,  how  it  burns!  Save  me,  doctor 
—  can't  you?  I  do  not  want  to  die.  I  can  not;  I  dare 
not." 


56  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  Well,  all  right,  all  right.  You'll  get  over  this.  What 
are  you  fretting  about;  it's  only  a  trifle,"  murmured  the 
doctor,  striving  to  console  him.  Then  the  solemn, 
admonitory  voice  of  the  priest  could  be  heard:  "  After 
this  brief  span  of  life  —  dark,  full  of  suffering,  and  grief, 
and  trouble  —  there  is  another,  an  eternal  one." 

"  What  do  I  want  with  the  other  life!  I  want  to  live 
now  —  now!  My  daughter — Nadia!  "  shrieked  the 
weakening  voice,  in  which  the  death-agony  could 
already  be  distinguished.  But  upon  the  cloth  of  the 
tent  the  most  absurd  and  comical  profiles  were  thrown, 
up  and  down  and  from  side  to  side  —  a  weird  shadow- 
dance,  with  the  superscription,  "  Memento  mori!  " 

The  eyes  of  the  lame  Cossack  fixed  themselves  upon 
the  tent,  following  all  the  movements  of  the  shadows. 
He  did  not  notice  the  unnatural  shapes;  he  saw  through 
the  folds  of  the  double  cloth  what  nobody  else  could 
see.  His  eyes  beheld  graceful,  pleasing  forms;  his 
ears  were  filled  with  gentle,  cherished  sounds. 

Men  who  for  prolonged  periods  have  seen  nothing  to 
remind  them  of  woman,  and  who  are  living  under  con- 
ditions which  predispose  them  to  excitement  of  the 
passions,  with  the  whole  system  abnormally  stimulated 
by  scenes  of  blood  and  violence  —  such  men  would 
naturally  be  expected  to  be  roused  into  a  train  of  pas- 
sionate, cynical  imagery  by  the  sight  of  a  being  of  the 
other  sex;  but  here  they  bore  patiently  the  presence  of 
a  woman  —  a  young  and  beautiful  woman  —  in  the 
midst  of  their  camp. 

The  presence  of  this  woman  in  the  bivouac  pitched 
in  the  sandy  desert  on  the  road  to  Adam  Krilgan 
roused  no  such  feelings.  If  anybody's  mind  had  given 
birth  to  an  impure  thought,  he  would  have  striven 
to  suppress  it  before  it  could  assume  definite  form,  fear- 


SHADOWS.  57 

ing  to  be  figuratively  stoned  by  his  fellow-man  for 
sacrilege. 

The  restraint  was,  of  course,  only  of  a  moral  nature; 
but  God  knows  that  the  most  reckless  among  them 
would  not  have  ventured  to  draw  upon  himself  the 
mute  reproach  which  would  have  blazed  upon  him  from 
every  passing  face. 

Ascetic  monks,  within  the  dark  walls  of  their  sanctu- 
aries, often  gaze  upon  the  pleasing  lines  of  female 
beauty  as  displayed  in  the  images  of  the  Holy  Mother. 
Do  those  beauties  inflame  their  blood?  Do  they  waken 
the  passion  slumbering  in  their  souls? 

Natalia,  with  her  calm,  sorrowful  smile;  with  her 
kindly  eyes,  always  to  be  found  where  grief  and  suffer- 
ing reigned  —  Natalia,  the  mother  with  her  little  son 
in  her  arms,  was  not  a  mere  woman  in  the  eyes  of  those 
surrounding  her. 

And  thus  the  feeling  of  profoundest  love  which 
shone  from  the  lame  Cossack's  eyes  was  worship  rather 
than  human  love. 

The  heathen  worshiper  looks  with  such  eyes  upon 
his  good  idol  when  he  asks  for  protection  against 
another  god,  not  less  powerful,  but  evil. 

The  voices  subsided,  the  light  was  suddenly  ex- 
tinguished, and  the  moving  shadows  disappeared,  but  the 
Cossack  was  still  in  the  same  place.  Leaning  upon  his 
elbow,  he  stretched  himself  at  full  length  upon  the  soft 
sand,  which  was  still  warm,  in  spite  of  the  comparative 
freshness  of  the  night. 

"What  do  you  want? "  he  gruffly  addressed  some- 
body. 

"  It  is  I,  your  honor;  I  brought  your  felt-mat  and 
your  saddle-cushion,"  replied  a  tall,  dark  figure  stand- 


58  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

ing  before  him.  The  Cossack  recognized  the  old  serv- 
ant of  Natalia's  father,  the  inseparable  attendant  and 
watch-dog  of  the  daughter. 

"Thank  you,  Dementy  — thanks!  "  he  said,  smiling 
faintly. 

"It  is  far  to  the  Cossack  camp,"  said  Dementy, 
spreading  the  mat,  "  and  you'll  be  just  as  well  off  here. 
I  am  going  where  the  horses  are  tied." 

"Well,  how  is  Natalia  Martinovna;  how  is  Petka?"  the 
Cossack  began  again. 

"Thanks  be  to  God,  they're  all  right,"  replied  the  old 
man,  going  away,  and  smiling  under  his  shaggy  gray 
mustache.  "Oh,  what  a  man  — watching  there  all 
night!  " 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT    OLD    DOSTCHAK    TOLD    HIS   COMPANIONS. 

A  LITTLE  aside  from  the  camel-train,  in  a  gully 
affording  some  protection  from  the  wind  to  the  flames 
of  their  fire,  already  burning  low,  a  few  half -naked  fig- 
ures, dark  as  ancient  bronzes  and  thin  as  skeletons,  were 
grouped  together.  The  bodies  appeared  entirely  black, 
but,  whenever  the  fire  was  hidden  from  the  eye  of  the 
observer,  a  reddish  glare  glided  over  them,  defining 
in  distinct  outlines  the  dark  shadows  between  the  ribs 
and  underlying  the  prominent  muscles.  The  ends  of 
some  cloth  wound  around  a  head  would  flash  out,  and 
upon  the  handles  of  knives  gleaming  reflections  were 
thrown,  and  as  quickly  vanished.  A  bony  hand  would 
appear  reaching  toward  the  fire,  throwing  into  it  a 


WHAT    OLD    DOSTCHAK    TOLD    HIS    COMPANIONS.          59 

handful  of  dry  dung,  and  disappear  again  in  the  shadow 
of  the  dark  southern  night. 

They  were  conversing  in  subdued,  guttural  tones. 
A  low  saucepan  was  hissing  and  spluttering  on  a  small 
tripod,  the  reddish  steam  barely  rising  above  it.  The 
kalyan  (gourd  water-pipe)  bubbled  and  squealed, 
passing  slowly  from  hand  to  hand.  Somebody  gave 
vent  to  a  long-drawn  sigh,  as  if  trying  to  recover 
from  the  effects  of  the  hot,  tiresome  day;  another 
expectorated  the  saliva  collected  during  his  long 
pull  at  the  pipe,  and  coughed;  a  third  hummed  in 
half-tone  an  endless  song,  with  the  unavoidable 
refrain  of  "  Ada-lai'ga,"  but  stopped  suddenly  after  the 
first  line  of  his  improvisation.  Several  mouths  began 
to  yawn  together;  and  Allah  and  his  prophet  were  duly 
remembered.  Again  they  subsided  into  low,  desultory 
conversation.  At  last  only  the  crackling  of  the  fire 
could  be  heard,  and  the  rustle  of  some  invisible  thing 
moving  over  the  sand  out  of  the  shadows  into  the 
deceptive  light  of  the  camp-fire.  These  "  lautchi " 
(native  allies  and  laborers)  had  assembled  here  to  pass 
away  the  summer  night,  having  had  a  sufficiency  of 
sleep  during  the  day. 

"  Has  Dostchak  come? "  spoke  up  one  of  them. 

"  He  has  not  come,"  answered  another. 

"  He  has  not  come,"  confirmed  a  third.  And  once 
more  silence  reigned. 

The  world  "moved  on."  The  Pleiades  appeared 
above  the  horizon,  in  Orion's  girdle  sparkled  its  three 
stars,  and  the  Great  Bear  had  almost  turned  backward. 
Soon  a  grayish  streak  appeared  along  the  eastern  hori- 
zon —  the  herald  of  dawn.  Light  steps  were  approach- 
ing over  the  soft  sand  toward  the  fire,  and  a  dark  figure 
loomed  up  not  far  away. 


60  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  Dostchak  —  is  it  you? " 

"  It  is  I,"  answered  the  figure.  "  Yes,  it  is  I,  Dost- 
chak; just  as  thou  art  Alai',  thou  Uzen,  and  thou  Sharip 
—  each  of  us  has  his  name.  Over  yonder  lies  somebody 
whom  the  Cossacks  captured,  and  are  now  guarding  — 
only  not  very  carefully  —  who  also  has  his  name." 

"  Are  you  hungry? " 

"I  —  am  I  hungry?  Very  hungry!  And  that  one 
over  there  is  also  hungry,  but  he  does  not  dare  to  speak 
of  it;  he  does  not  dare  to  show  his  face  — -he  is  afraid. 
He  is  afraid  because  his  name  is  not  Dostchak  like  mine, 
nor  Alai'  like  yours,  nor  Uzen  or  Sharip  like  yours,  but 
quite  another.  Why  should  he  be  afraid  to  be  called 
by  his  name? " 

After  this  long  peroration,  Dostchak  sat  down  before 
the  saucepan,  took  off  the  cover,  and  put  in  his  hand  to 
feel  if  it  was  hot;  then,  drawing  it  out  again,  he  licked 
his  fingers  clean. 

"  Who  lies  over  there? "  asked  Alai'. 

"  What  is  he  called?  "  added  Sharip. 

"  Dostchak  will  tell  us,"  confidently  asserted  Uzen. 

"  He'll  tell,"  briefly  uttered  Sharip,  and  began  to  eat. 

The  others  also  moved  up  to  the  kettle  and  inserted 
their  hands.  They  had  been  waiting  only  for  Dost- 
chak's  arrival  before  beginning  to  attack  with  their 
chopsticks  the  mess  of  flour,  brackish  water,  and  a 
handful  of  army-crackers  purloined  by  Uzen  from  a 
broken  bale  of  the  camel-train. 

After  the  meal  Dostchak  began  his  tale: 

"  At  that  time  we  lived  near  Tokmak,  on  the  river 
Chu,  but  our  huts  stood  higher  up  in  the  mountains. 
I  had  no  hut  of  my  own,  and  no  household  goods. 
After  the  death  of  my  second  wife  I  did  not  wish  to 
keep  house  again.  I  took  refuge  with  a  rich  man  —  he 
was  a  bey  — " 


WHAT    OLD    DOSTCHAK    TOLD    HIS    COMPANIONS.          61 

"  He  was  called  Biketai,"  Uzen  interrupted  him. 

"  Biketai.  Well,  I  lived  with  him.  I  was  overseer 
over  all  his  cattle  and  horses,  and  lived  in  great  friend- 
ship with  old  Biketai  himself.  It  was  good  for  him  and 
good  for  me.  Yes,  those  were  happy  times!  " 

Dostchak  here  took  breath  and  a  draw  from  the  pipe; 
then  he  expectorated,  and  went  on: 

"  Biketai  had  two  sons.  The  oldest  was  then  just 
twenty  years  old  —  the  younger  only  fourteen.  The 
old  man  loved  the  younger,  but  not  the  oldest.  Nobody 
could  have  loved  him;  he  was  a  very  bad  man.  He  spat 
upon  the  beard  of  our  Mullah,  old  Hassun.  The  father 
wanted  to  beat  him;  he  pulled  out  his  dagger,  and  said, 
'Just  touch  me  with  your  little  ringer! '  The  robber!  " 

"Aye,  aye!  "     The  listeners  shook  their  heads. 

"  Yes.  How  much  trouble,  how  much  evil  came  to  our 
village  through  him!  Our  neighbors  also  suffered  not  a 
little.  Ours  is  a  mountainous  country,  and  wooded. 
Most  of  the  people  have  no  permanent  abodes,  and 
roam  about,  and  for  such  people — just  like  wolves  they 
are  —  you  must  look  out.  We  soon  learned  that  the  old- 
est son  of  Biketai  made  common  cause  with  these  rovers 
and  depended  upon  their  support.  Then  robberies  and 
plunder  began  on  the  Russian  frontier,  as  it  then  was. 
They  said  it  was  our  fault.  They  sent  soldiers  against 
us,  and  we  suffered  ruin  and  desolation.  All  this  was 
caused  by  that  cursed  one.  Then  they  turned  to  old 
Biketai.  'Take  him  away,'  they  said;  'you  are  his 
father.'  'Take  him  yourself,'  answered  Biketai;  'I 
renounce  him.'  Well,  they  tried  to  take  him,  when 
another  outrage  was  committed.  In  a  neighboring  vil- 
lage a  bride  was  stolen  at  night;  a  good  young  woman 
and  beautiful.  They  followed  the  tracks,  but  could  not 
catch  up.  'The  girl  perished  miserably,  and  after  a  time 


62  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

we  learned  that  Atam  Kul  had  a  hand  in  the  business. 
The  young  husband  came  to  the  father,  and  said, 
'Your  son  has  done  me  a  great  injury;  I  must  kill  him.' 
'  Kill  him! '  said  Biketai.  '  I  must  not,'  said  the  husband; 
'  some  of  your  blood  is  still  upon  our  family.'*  '  It's  all 
right,'  said  Biketai.  'I  renounce  him;  he  is  son  of 
mine  no  longer.'  The  husband  then  went  into  the 
mountains  to  seek  Atam  Kul  —  and  he  was  never  heard 
of  again.  Two  days  later  Atam  Kul  came  back.  '  Go 
and  take  Achmet's  body  away,'  he  said;  '  somebody  has 
killed  him  —  or  maybe  he  killed  himself!'  Well,  they 
went  after  the  body. 

"  For  a  long  time  he  thus  troubled  all  of  us.  He  was 
looked  upon  in  our  villages  as  equal  to  the  black  pesti- 
lence. He  was  always  called  the  'cursed  one.'  For 
seven  years  we  suffered  from  him,  and  during  the  eighth 
he  went  away  of  his  own  accord. 

"At  that  time  the  white  blouses  first  passed  by 
Tokmak.  They  were  going  to  fight  against  Aule-Ata. 
A  general  led  them.  He  took  every  native  who  went 
to  him  in  his  service.  Atam  Kul  went  with  them,  and 
we  had  no  more  news  of  him — just  as  if  he  had  died. 
Nobody  heard  of  him,  and  none  of  us  saw  him.  All  the 
country  was  quiet  then.  We  thanked  Allah  for  that, 
and  all  the  people  went  to  pray  at  the  holy  shrine  that 
stands  upon  a  precipice  on  one  side  of  the  caravan  road. 
So  glad  were  they  all  to  be  delivered  from  the  '  cursed 
one.' 

"  Then  there  remained  to  Biketai  only  his  younger 
son,  Yunus.  He  was  a  good  boy,  honest  and  kind,  and 
called  me  uncle.  I  loved  Yunus  no  less  than  his  old 
father  loved  him. 

"Another  year  passed  by,  and  another,  and  then  a 

*  The  vendetta  exists  among  these  roving  tribes. 


WHAT    OLD    DOSTCHAK    TOLD    HIS    COMPANIONS.          63 

third;  the  time  passed  just  as  almighty  Allah  ordained. 
Old  Biketai"  died,  and  all  he  left  behind  him  went  to 
Yunus  by  his  will.  To  the  oldest,  Atam  Kul,  he  did 
not  leave  a  single  scabby  sheep.  We  all  concluded  that 
that  was  as  it  should  be.  Another  year  went  by,  and 
another.  Yunus  betrothed  himself  to  a  girl  from  a  good 
family.  Then  there  came  news  of  Atam  Kul. 

"  We  learned  that  our  cursed  one  had  become  a  great 
man  among  the  Russians.  They  gave  him  a  title,  and 
gold  epaulets,  and  a  cross  with  a  bird  upon  it,  and 
finally  gave  him  some  command.  Those  who  saw  him 
said  that  he  had  become  very  great  —  greater  than  the 
Bey  of  Almatinsk,  who  also  had  gold  epaulets.  Yunus 
became  uneasy,  and  no  longer  talked  of  his  betrothed. 
He  would  not  drink  kumiss,  nor  eat,  and  he  slept  but 
poorly.  He  always  sat  in  his  house,  thinking. 

"  I  knew  what  he  was  thinking  about,  but  was  afraid 
to  say  anything.  I  did  not  dare  to  think,  even.  My 
heart  felt  all  the  evil  that  was  before  us. 

"  I  kept  silent  and  waited.  At  last  Yunus  spoke  him- 
self. He  said:  'What  am  I  here?  Only  a  common 
Kirghiz.  What  does  it  serve  me  to  have  cattle  and 
plenty  of  everything  when  all  belongs  to  me  alone? ' 
'  As  to  that,'  I  answered  him,  '  you  will  marry  and 
have  a  family  of  children,  and  you  will  live  as  your 
father  lived,  rich  and  comfortable.'  '  I  shall  join  the 
Russians  with  my  men,'  he  said;  '  they  are  at  war  over 
there.  I  am  no  worse  than  my  brother,  who  got  up 
among  the  great  people.'  He  cut  me  to  the  quick  with 
those  words.  I  talked  to  him  for  a  long  time;  and  not 
I  alone  —  many  old  men  came  to  talk  to  him.  Within 
a  month  he  began  to  get  ready." 

"  Yunus? " 

"  Yunus.     I  also  got  ready.     I  would  not  leave  him, 


64  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

and  vowed  never  to  take  my  eyes  off  him.  It  was 
right  for  him  to  go  —  why  not?  —  had  it  not  been  for 
his  older  brother.  At  the  same  time  we  heard  that 
this  older  brother  was  very  angry  with  Yunus  because 
the  inheritance  had  gone  to  him  alone  and  had  not 
been  divided  between  them.  Most  of  all  I  feared 
A  tarn  Kul;  but,  trusting  that  Allah  would  not  allow 
evil  to  prevail,  we  went." 

The  narrator  took  breath  and  again  refreshed  him- 
self with  the  pipe.  The  faint  streak  of  light  in  the 
east  spread  and  spread,  and  in  contrast  with  this  pale, 
yellowish  light  it  seemed  to  grow  darker  below, 
especially  in  the  ravines.  Here  and  there,  like  scat- 
tered posts,  the  sentries  could  be  ssen  looming  up 
darkly,  moving  slowly  back  and  forth  on  the  short 
paths  they  had  trodden  during  the  night. 

Dostchak  continued:  "At  that  time  much  land  was 
taken  by  the  White  Tsar,  though  we  did  not  know 
much  about  it  then.  We  passed  by  Antye-Ata,  where 
the  Russians  had  long  been  settled;  then  we  came  to 
Chimkent,  where  they  were  building  a  new  fort,  and 
then  to  Tashkent.  Here  they  had  built  a  whole  new 
town,  larger  than  the  old  one  that  belonged  to 
Bokhara.  Then  we  asked,  '  Where  is  the  war? '  '  At 
Samarkand,'  they  answered;  'still  farther  away.'  We 
went  on  to  Samarkand.  I  don't  remember  how  long 
we  were  on  the  road,  but,  thanks  be  to  Allah,  we  got 
there  safely. 

"The  commander  at  Samarkand  at  that  time  was 
very  strict.  He  had  a  black  helmet  on  his  head,  and  on 
his  nose  he  wore  round  glasses  with  a  golden  frame.  I 
remembered  then  that  I  had  seen  him  before,  at  Alma- 
lakh  —  only  he  was  younger  then.  First  of  all  we  went 
to  the  commander  and  inquired  after  Atam  Kul.  They 


WHAT    OLD    DOSTCHAK    TOLD    HIS    COMPANIONS.  65 

told  us:  '  He  is  here,  but  he  has  gone  away  about  a 
hundred  versts  or  so ;  he'll  soon  be  back. '  We  concluded 
to  do  nothing  until  we  had  seen  Atam  Kul.  We  wanted 
to  win  him  over  by  telling  him:  'You  are  the  older 
brother  —  tell  us  what  to  do! ' 

"At  last  Atam  Kul  arrived. 

"We  did  not  recognize  him  at  once.  He  seemed  to 
be  a  head  higher  in  stature.  Some  of  our  people  were 
with  him  —  quite  a  number.  He  also  had  Russian  Cos- 
sacks under  his  command  —  a  whole  company.  He 
spoke  Russian,  and  drank  wine  with  the  big  officers;  he 
even  shook  hands  with  the  general. 

"Well,  I  went  to  see  him  first,  and  told  Yunus  to 
wait.  I  thought  I  might  find  out  first  what  thoughts  he 
harbored  in  his  soul.  '  What  have  you  brought  me?' 
shouted  he  at  me.  I  told  him.  'Well,'  he  said,  'my 
brother  Yunus  is  a  rich  man  now,  but  he  lets  a  common 
dshigit  speak  for  him;  that  seems  strange.'  When  he 
said  that  he  smiled  in  such  a  way  that  it  made  me  feel 
cold  all  over,  but  I  kept  silent  and  waited.  '  Well,  all 
right,' he  said;  'he  can  go  along  with  my  other  men, 
and  later  I  will  speak  to  the  general  about  it.  Where 
is  he  staying? '  he  asked.  '  In  a  bazaar  behind  the  town,' 
I  said.  '  There  is  an  empty  house,  and  a  yard  with  three 
poplars  in  it  —  there  we  have  put  up.'  '  Well,  in  the 
evening  I  will  go  there  myself.  Good-by,  you  old  dog! ' 
That  he  meant  for  me  —  the  word  cut  me  to  the  soul, 
and  had  it  not  been  for  Yunus  I  should  have  jumped  at 
his  throat,  though  he  had  cut  off  his  beard,  the  renegade, 
in  Russian  fashion.  Well,  I  went  away,  but  I  heard 
him  cry  after  me:  'Eh!  did  the  old  fool,  our  father, 
leave  much  property  behind  him? '  I  made  no  answer 
to  this. 

"  In  the  evening  the  brothers  met.     There  was  no 


66  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

trouble  —  they  embraced  even  —  only  Atam  Kill's  lips 
were  pressed  together  very  hard,  and  he  looked  upon 
Yunus  with  an  evil  eye. 

"  Two  days  later  we  heard  that  the  Russians  were  get- 
ting ready  to  march  —  not  against  the  Emir,  but  for 
him.  They  were  to  take  back  the  city  of  Karsh,  which 
the  Emir's  eldest  son  had  taken  away  from  his  father. 
We  went  with  them.  We  marched  through  the  country, 
and  our  people  roamed  about  through  the  enemy's 
villages.  We  all  know  what  war  is.  They  began  to 
drive  off  cattle,  and  the  people  of  Bokhara  complained 
to  the  general  about  it,  and  he  told  them  they  should 
not  be  troubled.  The  general  was  that  kind  of  a  man 
that  when  he  ordered  anything,  nobody  dared  to  dis- 
obey him.  A  day  passed  by  —  our  people  were 
encamped  at  Dshama  —  and  new  complaints  came  in. 
That  made  the  general  very  angry,  and  he  inquired 
who  was  doing  it.  The  officers  told  him  Atam  Kul's 
people.  Atam  Kill  was  called,  and  came.  He  stood 
there  pale  and  trembling,  for  all  his  being  such  a  big 
man.  The  general  ordered  him  to  tell  his  people  that 
the  first  man  who  stole  cattle  would  be  hung,  as  an 
example  to  the  others.  We  heard  of  it  only  afterward, 
but  all  our  misfortune  sprang  from  this. 

"  As  soon  as  we  got  to  Karsh,  firing  began.  Our  men 
were  all  scattered.  Atam  Kul  was  with  the  general.  I 
was  looking  for  Yunus,  but  he  was  not  with  us;  then  I 
was  seized  with  such  fear  that  I  did  not  feel  the  horse 
moving  under  me.  In  the  evening  I  looked  around 
again  —  there  came  Yunus  driving  four  cows  before 
him  and  leading  a  camel  by  the  halter,  passing  straight 
by  the  general's  staff.  The  strict  general  shouted, 
'  Hang  him ! '  I  nearly  fainted.  With  the  general  to  say 
a  thing  was  to  do  it.  I  got  our  people  together  at  once 


WHAT    OLD    DOSTCHAK    TOLD    HIS    COMPANIONS.  67 

and  rushed  up  to  the  general  —  there  were  fifteen  of 
us —  and  we  all  fell  upon  our  knees.  '  Forgive/  we  said. 
'  It  is  the  first  time,  and  he  is  very  young.  He  knew 
nothing  of  it;  his  brother  never  told  him  of  your  strict 
orders.'  'What  brother?'  asked  the  general.  'Atam 
Kul,'  said  we.  '  I  did  not  know  he  had  a  brother.  Is 
that  your  brother?'  he  asked  Atam  Kul;  but  he  —  the 
cursed  one  —  may  his  bones  never  find  rest  on  the 
earth  or  under  the  ground!  may  a  fiery  pestilence 
devour  him!  —  he  denied  him.  'No,'  he  said,  'I  do 
not  know  him;  he  is  not  my  brother.'  'All  right; 
hang  him ! '  said  the  general  without  looking  up.  They 
brought  on  poor  Yunus.  Again  we  began  to  beg,  and 
we  swore  that  that  was  Atam  Kul's  brother  who  was 
serving  with  him.  '  Is  that  your  brother? '  the  general 
asked  again.  Atam  Kul  smiled,  and  said,  '  I  can  find 
many  such  brethren.  Any  new-comer  may  call  me 
brother!  '  The  general  frowned,  and  gave  his  last  com- 
mand: 'If  he  is  your  brother,  I  will  pardon  him.' 
Then  we  all  fell  at  Atam  Kul's  feet;  we  kissed  his  boots, 
and  adjured  him  by  all  that  is  holy  —  then  we  waited. 
But  the  Cossacks  were  already  preparing  the  rope. 
They  dragged  Yunus  under  a  tree  —  all  was  ready,  and 
we  were  waiting  still  for  Atam  Kul  to  speak.  He 
stood  there  staring  at  the  ground,  silent.  His  face  was 
as  dark  as  the  earth  beneath  him.  He  glanced  some- 
times at  the  general  and  sometimes  at  the  place  where 
Yunus  was  bound. 

"  Then  we  began  to  pray  to  almighty  Allah.  The 
general  turned  away  and  went  into  his  tent,  but  before 
he  entered  he  turned  and  looked  at  Atam  Kul,  and 
asked,  '  Well? '  We  all  held  our  breath.  '  No,  he  is 
no  brother  of  mine,'  said  Atam  Kul,  talking  very  low 
—  his  lips  scarcely  moved;  but  all  of  us  who  stood 
there  heard  his  last  words. 

5 


68  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  They  hanged  Yunus.  I  then  left  the  Russians  and 
went  away,  only  watching  from  afar.  I  never  lost 
sight  of  the  rascal ;  I  have  followed  his  every  step,  and 
wait  to  see  when  just  Allah  will  send  him  his  pun- 
ishment." 

Dostchak  ceased  talking,  and  threw  another  piece  of 
dung  upon  the  fire. 

"  Well,  what  else?  "  asked  Uzen. 

"  I  wait,"  said  Dostchak,  and  nodded  his  head. 
The  men  who  had  listened  to  him  also  nodded  their 
heads.  They  all  understood  now  why  he  who  was 
bound  over  yonder  was  so  much  afraid  that  somebody 
might  know  him  —  might  know  his  name. 

Drums  now  began  to  beat,  and  bugles  sounded  from 
the  picket-ropes.  The  sky  in  the  east  flamed  up 
brighter  and  brighter.  The  rays  of  the  rising  sun 
already  gilded  the  summits  of  the  sand-hills,  then 
descended  lower  and  lighted  up  the  bayonets  of  the 
soldiers'  muskets.  The  camp  of  the  white  blouses 
began  to  stir  and  to  take  up  its  ordinary  pursuits. 

Having  passed  away  the  summer  night,  the  native 
"lautche"  scattered  over  the  camp,  wherever  they 
wished  to  go;  but  soon  they  began  to  collect  in  one 
place.  Old  Dostchak  was  also  there,  and  many  others 
crowded  around  the  bound  man.  He  was  made  to  get 
upon  his  feet,  and  taken  to  the  general's  headquarters 
to  be  questioned. 


A    DESERTER.  69 

CHAPTER  XI. 

A    DESERTER. 

IN  a  shallow  ravine  between  two  rows  of  sand-dunes, 
about  four  versts  ahead  of  the  line  of  double  sentries,  a 
small  outpost  of  ten  riflemen  with  an  officer  was  sta- 
tioned. 

It  was  getting  near  morning,  and  a  grayish  light 
already  began  to  spread  along  the  eastern  horizon.  A 
slight  movement  began  in  the  camp,  which  was  invis- 
ible to  those  of  the  outpost,  because  of  it  being  hidden 
from  them  by  hills  and  smoky  fog,  but  the  stir  was 
easily  perceptible  to  trained  ears. 

The  soldiers  felt  very  tired  after  a  night  of  pro- 
longed and  earnest  struggle  with  an  almost  uncon- 
querable desire  to  sleep.  If  a  sentry,  standing  or 
walking,  can  scarcely  keep  from  nodding,  how  much 
more  difficult  must  it  be  for  men  stretched  out  in  com- 
fortable positions  and  wrapped  up  in  warm  greatcoats! 
But  it  was  necessary  to  struggle  all  night,  and  that  all 
the  twenty-two  eyes  should  look  sharply  at  the  line 
which  but  imperfectly  defined  the  horizon,  to  watch 
whether  suspicious  black  dots  did  not  appear  against 
the  comparatively  bright  streak  of  sky.  It  was  neces- 
sary for  all  to  listen  intently  for  the  stamp  of  horse- 
hoofs  or  the  slightest  rustle  of  a  body  dragging  itself 
over  the  sand. 

But  in  this  outpost  all  were  volunteers,  fond  of  noc- 
turnal and  all  other  adventures,  and  consequently 
it  was  altogether  unnecessary  for  the  officer  in  charge 
to  watch  his  subordinates,  whether  any  one  of  them 


70  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

should  fall  asleep,  lulled  and  overcome  by  the  death- 
like stillness  and  immobility. 

With  the  dawn  the  outposts  were  permitted  to  return 
to  camp,  as  they  could  be  of  no  use  during  daylight. 
They  had  the  privilege  of  sleeping  throughout  the  day 
after  their  wearisome  night,  which  easily  explains  the 
satisfaction  with  which  the  soldiers  observed  the 
extending  sphere  of  morning  brightness,  as  well  as  the 
stir  and  movement  in  the  camp,  which  increased  with 
every  minute. 

"  Look!  "  whispered  one  of  the  riflemen,  very  faintly, 
as  if  to  himself,  without  turning  to  his  companions  or 
changing  from  his  reclining  posture,  and  looking  stead- 
ily ahead  to  some  point  in  the  distance. 

All  would  have  looked  without  this  warning,  and 
in  fact  all  observed  simultaneously  what  the  speaker 
saw.  They  all  seemed  to  strive  to  sink  themselves  still 
deeper  into  the  sand,  so  flatly  were  they  clinging  to  the 
ground,  holding  their  breath  —  only  the  fingers  of  the 
left  hand  strongly  grasped  their  gun-barrels,  and  the 
forefinger  of  the  right  barely  felt  of  the  smooth  surface 
of  the  trigger.  Thus  tigers  crouch,  watching  their  vic- 
tim's approach  to  the  watering-place,  with  the  same 
complete  extension  of  the  body,  the  same  deathlike 
immobility — only  these  were  bipeds  and  gray,  not 
striped  quadrupeds. 

On  the  very  summit  of  a  ridge  which  lay  in  dark  out- 
line before  the  eyes  of  the  riflemen  a  black  spot  appeared 
—  a  horseman.  He  stood  for  a  second,  and  disappeared 
again.  An  unexperienced  eye  could  not  have  ascer- 
tained with  any  certainty  where  he  was  hidden,  whether 
he  had  retreated  behind  the  ridge  again  or  turned  aside; 
but  the  trained  watchers  clearly  saw  that  the  latter  was 
the  case. 


A    DESERTER.  71 

After  this  a  whole  group  of  black  dots  appeared  upon 
the  ridge,  but  they  did  not  hide  ;  they  stood  and  took 
possession  of  the  height,  and  then  rode  along  it  in 
various  directions. 

"  Listen!  "  again  whispered  the  first  rifleman,  but 
again  his  warning  seemed  superfluous,  for  all  were 
listening  intently  without  it. 

They  heard  a  horse's  hoofs  in  rapid  motion,  but  it 
was  the  gait  of  a  tired  horse,  frequently  breaking  from 
its  gallop.  The  noise  was  coming  nearer  every  second. 

Six  men  of  the  outpost,  throwing  off  their  greatcoats, 
quickly  rose,  and  ran  to  intercept  the  rider;  the  others 
never  moved  their  eyes  from  the  sandy  ridge. 

The  horseman  was  now  quite  near,  looking  around 
attentively.  His  horse  snorted,  and  also  glanced  about 
suspiciously,  stretching  its  slender,  handsome  head  into 
the  wind  and  pricking  up  its  ears.  The  rider  was 
armed,  but  he  unfastened  his  weapons  and  gathered 
them  in  a  bundle,  as  objects  he  did  not  intend  to  use. 

"A  deserter,"  whispered  one  of  the  riflemen  to 
another. 

"Very  likely,"  whispered  the  other.  "Those  over 
there  were  chasing  him,  but  didn't  catch  him.  They're 
afraid  to  follow  him  farther.  They've  stopped." 

The  rider  urged  on  his  horse,  which  fell  back  on  its 
haunches,  striking  out  vigorously  with  its  forelegs.  In 
a  second  he  was  dismounted,  or  rather  pulled  from  his 
saddle.  He  could  not  cry  out,  because  muscular  palms 
covered  his  mouth;  he  could  not  move,  because  a  thin, 
elastic  rope  was  quickly  twisted  about  him,  cutting 
here  and  there  into  his  dusky,  bronze-like  body. 

A  silvery  strain  sounded  through  the  morning  air; 
from  the  camp  the  bugle  called,  "  Draw  in  your  out- 
posts! " 


72  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  Well,  thanks  to  the  Lord!  "  sighed  one  of  the  rifle- 
men, with  evident  satisfaction,  "  this  night  we  did  not 
wear  ourselves  out  for  nothing.  The  Lord  sent  us  some 
game,  though  we  can't  eat  it!  " 

The  captive  was  taken  into  camp  and  duly  inspected. 
The  face  was  not  that  of  a  Kirghiz  or  an  Uzbek,  nor  did 
it  resemble  a  Turkoman's.  The  eyes  were  large  and 
black;  the  eyebrows  thick  and  arched;  the  beard  long, 
thick,  and  curly,  and  though  it  was  now  gray  with  dust, 
it  was  black  as  tar  by  nature.  The  man  was  clad 
very  poorly  in  a  ragged  "  khalat,"  or  cloak;  the  feet 
were  bare  and  chafed  to  bleeding  by  the  iron  stirrups. 
His  weapons  also  were  of  the  meanest  description:  a 
saber  in  a  worn-out  scabbard  and  a  short  flint-lock 
musket.  The  horse,  however,  could  not  easily  have 
been  bought  for  500  "  teel  "  (Khivan  gold-piece,  worth 
nearly  $2),  and  bridle  and  saddle  were  ornamented  in 
rich  patterns  with  silver  and  turquoises.  The  rider 
and  his  horse  did  not  match,  and  that  was  a  suspicious 
circumstance. 

"I  am  an  Irane  "  (Persian),  said  the  prisoner.  "I 
served  in  Mat  Murad's  own  stables.  I  heard  that  the 
Russians  were  near,  and  that  they  came  to  liberate  my 
countrymen.  I  ran  away  from  my  master,  and  stole  a 
horse  with  all  its  trappings.  They  pursued  me  a  long 
time,  almost  to  your  camp;  but  they  couldn't  catch  me, 
because  the  horse  I  had  under  me  has  not  its  equal  in 
Mat  Murad's  stables.  If  they  had  caught  me  they 
would  have  skinned  me  alive,  and  if  I  were  to  fall  into 
their  hands  again  I'd  be  lost.  The  Russians  are  my 
only  salvation,  and  I  will  serve  them  faithfully.  I'd  give 
every  drop  of  my  blood  for  the  Russians.  I  can  be  of 
use,  too.  I  know  all  the  roads  well,  and  I  know  all  that 
is  going  on  there  —  what  troops  they  have,  and  how 


A    DESERTER.  73 

many  cannons.  I  know  all  that;  and  so  as  to  remember 
well  I  have  put.  everything  on  paper."  And  the  capt- 
ured Persian  —  fugitive  or  deserter,  as  the  soldiers 
called  him  —  drew  from  his  bosom  a  ragged,  yellow 
piece  of  paper,  closely  covered  with  fine  writing  in 
neat  Persian  script. 

Then  the  riflemen  of  the  outpost  were  questioned. 
They  said,  "  About  ten  men  were  chasing  him  —  per- 
haps more;  we  saw  them." 

"  One  of  them  shot  me,"  continued  the  Persian.  "  See, 
here  is  the  mark  of  the  bullet  —  look!"  He  drew  the 
cloak  from  one  of  his  shoulders,  and  all  could  see  the 
red,  scald-like  mark  made  by  a  bullet  grazing  the  body. 

"All  right,"  said  the  general.  "  Don't  be  afraid.  Serve 
us  well,  and  it  will  go  well  with  you  —  we  will  not  give 
you  up  to  the  Khivans;  but  if  you  betray  us,  we'll  hang 
you  —  I  want  you  to  know  that." 

An  interpreter  translated  this  short  speech  to  the 
Persian,  who  made  a  low  obeisance,  placing  both  hands 
upon  his  heart,  and  visibly  brightening  up  with  joy. 
He  asked  only  one  favor —  that  his  horse  be  not  taken 
away  from  him.  This  also  was  granted.  He  was 
given  to  understand,  however,  that  he  would  be  closely 
watched  until  he  should  convince  them  of  his  faithful- 
ness. 

The  Persian  was  then  ordered  to  join  the  camp  of  the 
native  militiamen,  and,  very  well  satisfied  with  his 
reception,  he  passed  through  the  whole  camp,  accom- 
panied by  two  dismounted  Cossacks.  He  held  up  his 
head  straight,  while  his  eyes  roved  from  side  to  side, 
taking  in  everything  within  the  camp.  He  noticed  a 
sentry  standing  up,  and  near  him,  crouching  in  the  sand, 
sat  the  man  who  was  "afraid  to  tell  his  name."  The 
head  of  this  man  was  bent  upon  his  knees;  his  face  was 
not  visible. 


74  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"A  dirty  people  are  the  Khivans!  May  they  all  per- 
ish, from  the  oldest  to  the  youngest!  "  said  the  Persian, 
loudly,  and  laughed  disdainfully.  Hearing  these  words, 
the  crouching  man  raised  his  head,  looked  up,  and  trem- 
bled, with  his  eyes  wide  open. 

"Allah  will  help  thee  the  day  after  to-morrow;  watch 
and  be  ready! "  said  the  Persian;  but  now  he  spoke  in 
Persian,  while  at  first  he  had  used  the  Uzbek  dialect. 
The  Cossacks  escorting  him  understood  all  he  said  at 
first,  but  the  last  sentence  was  unintelligible  to  them. 

"  He  is  abusing  him,  I  suppose,"  remarked  one  of  the 
Cossacks  to  the  other.  "  Surely,  these  Persians  do  not 
love  the  Khivans." 

"Who'd  love  the  whip  and  stick?"  replied  the  other, 
•not  altogether  without  pertinency. 

The  crouching  man  again  lowered  his  head,  and 
nobody  noticed  the  animation  that  flashed  up  in  his 
face  for  a  second,  lighting  in  his  heart  a  spark  of  hope 
for  rescue. 

On  the  same  morning  Dostchak  visited  the  camel- 
camp,  and  then  went  to  look  again  at  the  man  who  was 
afraid  of  his  own  name. 

"Well,  how  is  it?"  inquired  Uzen. 

"  What  simple  people  these  Russians  are!  Allah  pre- 
serve them!  Every  runaway  blown  here  by  the  wind 
they  pick  up  and  believe  his  every  word.  One  must 
look  sharply  or  something  bad  may  happen!  " 

There  was  much  work  for  the  native  allies  this  morn- 
ing; the  camels — two  thousand  of  them  —  had  to  be  taken 
into  the  steppe  to  pasture.  Fortunately,  all  was  quiet 
there,  and  the  scouts  brought  the  most  reassuring 
reports. 

"  Everything  is  quiet  —  nothing  stirring." 


LABORERS    FROM    A    PLUNDERED    CARAVAN.  75 


CHAPTER  XII. 

LABORERS    FROM    A    PLUNDERED    CARAVAN. 

THREE  days  had  passed  since  the  unknown  warrior 
had  been  brought  in  by  the  Cossacks.  He  had  been 
questioned,  and  all  that  could  be  expected  from  a  capt- 
ured common  native  had  been  ascertained,  and  for  a 
time  he  was  left  to  himself  like  any  ordinary  prisoner. 
Rumors,  however,  began  to  spread  more  and  more 
through  the  camp  as  to  the  personality  of  this  prisoner. 
There  were  many  who  had  known  Atam  Kul  person- 
ally when  he  was  in  the  Russian  service.  Among  them 
were  some  who  had  been  quite  intimate  with  him,  and 
could  scarcely  be  mistaken,  meeting  him  now  when 
only  five  years  had  elapsed,  but  —  ah!  there  seemed  to 
be  innumerable  "  buts  "  interfering  with  definite  asser- 
tion—  all  the  more  since  a  decisive  recognition  of 
Atam  Kul's  identity  was  equal  to  a  sentence  of  death 
for  him;  and  who  would  willingly  take  such  a  sentence 
upon  his  conscience  as  long  as  there  existed  the  most 
infinitesimal  spark  of  doubt? 

The  reasons  for  explaining  everything  by  a  simple 
resemblance  were  many.  Who  would,  for  instance, 
expect  to  find  in  the  open-hearted,  rough,  and  some- 
what vulgar  Atam  Kul,  as  they  all  had  known  him, 
such  self-possession  and  presence  of  mind  under  such 
trying  circumstances;  such  subtle  skill  in  disguising  his 
face,  his  customs,  and  familiar  movements  —  in  a  word, 
all  that  could  possibly  betray  him? 

He  was  called  loudly  from  behind,  entirely  unex- 
pectedly—  he  did  not  turn  or  betray  himself  by  the 


76  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

slightest  motion  of  his  shoulders.  He  was  interrogated 
on  various  subjects,  gradually  leading  up  to  decisive 
questions,  but  nothing  suspicious  appeared  in  his 
answers. 

His  face,  it  was  true,  resembled  that  of  A  tarn  Kul, 
but  the  thin  Kirghiz  beard  was  different.  The  other 
was  red-cheeked,  stout,  and  smooth-skinned,  with  an 
impudent  look  and  self-satisfied  bearing;  this  one  was 
thin,  pale,  with  prominent  cheek-bones,  and  appeared 
much  lower  in  stature.  Then  the  scars  in  his  face 
almost  obliterated  his  features  and  gave  them  a  differ- 
ent expression.  The  other  spoke  gruffly  and  loudly; 
this  one  lowly  and  painfully,  as  if  the  words  were  forced 
up  from  the  very  bottom  of  a  worn-out,  consumptive 
chest.  But  in  spite  of  all  this  there  were  many  who 
said  : 

"  However,  the  devil  take  him !  how  much  they  are 
alike,  the  beasts!  "  And  this  "beast  "  remained  a  com- 
mon "dshigit"  of  Sadik's  band;  had  heard  something 
of  Atam  Kul,  but  had  never  seen  him  in  person.  Only 
two  individuals  in  the  whole  camp  had  no  doubt  as 
to  his  identity.  One  of  them  was  our  old  friend 
Dostchak,  who  kept  silent  to  await  the  proper  time; 
the  other,  Natalia,  was  prevented  by  humanity  from 
speaking. 

In  the  meantime  other  strangers  came  into  the  Rus- 
sian camp.  On  the  road  by  which  the  Russian  expedi- 
tion had  arrived  there  appeared  four  men  on  foot.  One 
of  them  had  been  wounded  on  the  head  by  some  sharp 
weapon  or  instrument;  the  other  three  were  uninjured. 
They  were  all  nearly  without  clothes,  only  leather 
trousers  covering  their  nakedness.  All  were  com- 
pletely worn  out  with  long  marching,  sinking  to  the 
ground  exhausted  as  soon  as  they  reached  the  Russian 


LABORERS    FROM    A    PLUNDERED    CARAVAN.  77 

picket-line.  They  were  taken  and  brought  to  the 
camp. 

They  appeared  to  be  from  Bokhara,  laborers  in  the 
employ  of  one  of  the  merchants  who  had  gone  with  a 
caravan  from  Nur-ata,  and  had  been  plundered  by  a 
roving  band.  They  stated  that  about  a  hundred 
mounted  "  dshigits  "  fell  upon  them,  took  their  camels 
and  goods,  killed  two  men  outright  and  wounded  one  — 
there  he  was  —  who  had  come  with  them,  and  robbed 
them  of  all  their  clothes,  leaving  only  the  trousers. 
They  begged  the  Russians,  before  everything  else,  for 
something  to  eat  and  drink.  That  was  the  second  day 
they  had  been  without  water  and  food.  After  that  they 
would  ask  for  an  asylum  —  that  is,  for  permission  to  go 
with  the  Russians  until  an  opportunity  should  offer  to 
return  to  their  own  country. 

It  happened  that  rumors  had  already  reached  the 
camp  that  some  caravan  from  Bokhara  had  been  plun- 
dered by  the  Turkomans,  and  it  was  naturally  believed 
that  these  men  had  belonged  to  it.  The  new-comers 
were  given  food  and  drink,  and  permitted  to  remain. 
They  seemed  to  be  much  pleased,  thanked  the  Russians, 
and  implored  Allah  to  shower  all  blessings  upon  them. 

The  Persian  deserter  made  up  to  these  people  at 
once,  questioning  them,  and  telling  them  his  experi- 
ence, and  they  became  friends  from  the  first.  Two  of 
the  new  arrivals  turned  out  to  be  also  Persians,  his 
countrymen,  and  that  seemed  to  satisfactorily  explain 
the  intimate  relations  springing  up  between  them. 
The  Russian  soldiers  always  treat  the  natives  very 
kindly,  especially  when  they  are  suffering,  and  on  the 
very  first  day  many  of  them  addressed  them  as  "  tamyrs  " 
(chums). 

On  the  same  day,  also,  the  victims  of  robbery  seemed 


78  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

to  forget  their  sufferings,  wandering  freely  through  the 
camp,  looking  at  everything,  and  not  failing  to  notice 
the  prisoner,  and  even  trying  to  converse  with  him. 

Again  it  was  only  old  Dostchak  who,  grumbling  and 
growling,  was  very  much  dissatisfied  with  the  condition 
of  affairs  —  so  much  displeased  that  he  resolved  to 
overcome  his  timidity  and  to  communicate  his  fears  to 
the  highest  authorities.  After  attiring  himself  in  his 
new  red  cloak,  he  prayed  long,  on  his  knees  upon  his 
little  felt-mat  spread  upon  the  ground,  and  his  hands 
uplifted.  Then  he  proceeded  through  the  camp,  shap- 
ing his  course  toward  a  large  tent  where  a  red  ensign 
with  seven  white  stars,  tattered  and  bleached  by  sun 
and  rain,  fluttered  gently  in  the  breeze. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  REPORT. 

DOSTCHAK  trudged  along  until  he  caught  sight  of  the 
tent,  the  object  of  his  journey.  It  was  necessary  to 
pass  by  long  rows  of  stacked  arms  along  which  pensive 
sentries  were  pacing;  in  another  place  bales  of  supplies 
were  piled  up  —  these  also  had  to  be  avoided.  He 
described  a  great  circuit  around  the  artillery-park,  and 
came  upon  the  hospital-tents,  and  was  again  forced  to 
make  his  way  around.  In  doing  this  Dostchak  stumbled 
over  ropes  and  dragged  at  tents,  for  which  he  was 
soundly  scolded.  Soldiers  whom  he  knew  spoke  to  him 
kindly,  and  many  to  whom  he  was  unknown  looked  up 
at  him. 


THE    REPORT.  79 

"  Eh,  friend,  where  are  you  going? " 

"Ah!  my  old  chum;  you  piece  of  an  old  picked  bone! 
Won't  you  have  some  tea?  Come  here,  you  red  devil  — 
I'll  give  it  to  you,  with  sugar.  Sit  down!  " 

"  Look,  boys,  he's  got  a  medal  —  there  it  dangles  on 
his  cloak.  Dostchak,  good  luck  to  you,  you  honest 
soul!" 

"Careful,  you  old  devil;  you'll  upset  the  guns!  " 

Similar  greetings  showered  upon  Dostchak  from  all 
directions;  but  he  went  on  and  on,  not  saying  a  word  to 
anybody,  or  acknowledging  any  of  the  calls  and  invita- 
tions. At  last  he  got  to  his  destination. 

There  was  the  red  flag!  How  frayed  were  its  edges 
—  it  must  have  been  over  a  great  deal  of  country.  And 
there  stood  the  sentry  —  a  rifleman.  A  copper  sauce- 
pan was  simmering  in  the  sun;  steam  was  rising  from  it, 
and  a  small  fire  glimmered  under  the  iron  tripod.  An 
orderly  was  opening  a  bottle,  wiping  the  neck  with  the 
skirt  of  his  tunic.  A  Cossack  officer  who  had  just  come 
out  of  the  tent  jumped  upon  his  horse,  which  backed 
and  gave  him  some  trouble,  but  he  gained  his  seat,  not, 
however,  without  nearly  trampling  upon  old  Dostchak. 
Then  somebody  else  emerged  from  the  tent,  rattling 
his  saber;  he  dropped  some  papers  out  of  a  portfolio, 
and  the  wind  carried  them  away.  Some  Cossacks  ran 
up  and  began  to  pick  them  up.  Dostchak  got  his  hands 
upon  one  of  the  papers,  trying  to  say  something,  but  his 
timidity  kept  his  lips  sealed. 

"Well,  there  is  some  wind  this  morning,"  some  one 
remarked;  "  it  fairly  howls!  "  "  The  commander  of  the 
cavalry  perfectly  agrees  with  me,"  comes  from  a  pleas- 
ing baritone  voice  within  the  tent.  "  Cut  it  into  small 
pieces  and  put  it  in,"  somebody  was  explaining  behind 
the  tent. 


80  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  What  do  you  want? "  . 

Dostchak  was  overcome  with  confusion.  A  mus- 
tached  physiognomy  looked  him  straight  in  the  face? 
without  taking  its  eyes  off  him.  It  was  terrible!  The 
mouth  opens  wide,  with  grinning  teeth,  and  —  down 
goes  Dostchak  on  his  knees  with  his  red  cloak,  his 
medal,  and  his  tall  sheepskin  cap,  which  he  twists  in 
his  trembling  hands. 

"I  should  know  that  face,"  thinks  Dostchak;  "I've 
seen  him  with  the  train.  Once  he  struck  me  with  the 
whip  —  but  not  very  hard.  I  want  the  genderal  — 
arznnbar"  (I  have  a  request).  He  spoke  up  loud  and 
resolutely,  seating  himself  upon  the  sand  opposite  the 
very  entrance,  and  resumed  his  customary  respectful 
attitude. 

Dostchak  spoke  Russian  very  badly,  being  barely  able 
to  make  himself  understood  at  all;  but  in  view  of  the 
great  importance  of  his  present  business,  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  carry  on  his  conversation  with  the  gen- 
eral in  Russian,  in  order  to  avoid  the  use  of  an  inter- 
preter, in  whom  the  natives  generally  repose  but  very 
little  confidence.  He  had  only  just  succeeded  in  pro- 
nouncing his  explanatory  words  when  the  general  him- 
self emerged  from  the  tent.  The  red  khalat  at  once 
attracted  his  eyes. 

"  What  do  you  want? "  inquired  the  general. 

Dostchak  went  straight  to.  the  point.  "  When  will 
you  hang  Atam  Kul? "  he  asked,  rising  to  his  legs  and 
making  a  deep  obeisance. 

The  general  laughed  until  his  white  vest  and  gold 
chain  fairly  shook  over  his  stomach.  "  Catch  him  and 
bring  him  to  me;  then  I  will  hang  him,"  he  replied,  still 
laughing.  "  I  remember  this  fellow  —  the  sworn  enemy 
of  Atam  Kul.  I  remember  him  —  some  one  told  me  — " 


THE    REPORT.  81 

"  Exactly,  your  Excellency,"  some  very  small  body 
behind  the  general's  back  replied,  very  respectfully. 
"It  was,  with  your  Excellency's  permission,  on  the 
march  to  Nur-Ek.  Fires  had  been  lighted  to  warm  up 
our  freezing  men — " 

"  Genderal,"  broke  in  Dostchak  —  "  Genderal,  why  you 
no  hang  Atam  Kulka?  Why  you  catch  and  no  hang? 
He  will  run  away,  Atam  Kulka  —  no  can  hang  him 
then.  Atam  Kulka  soon  run  away.  One  day,  two 
days,  run  away.  There's  bad  people  in  the  camp.  One 
man  no  good;  four  men  no  good.  Atam  Kul  take  them 
and  run  away.  Right  away  hang  Atam  Kulka,  gende- 
ral;  then  Atam  Kulka  no  run  away." 

The  old  native's  request,  in  spite  of  the  comical 
phrases  in  which  it  was  couched,  had  in  it  so  much  ear- 
nestness, so  much  honest  enthusiasm  and  persistence, 
it  breathed  so  much  conviction  and  truth,  that  the  gen- 
eral involuntary  contracted  his  brows  and  considered 
for  a  minute. 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  that  is  Atam  Kul  ?  Perhaps  it 
is  not  he,"  said  the  general. 

"Let  Atam  Kul  be  brought.  Dostchak  will  show 
you." 

"  See  about  that!  "  said  the  general  to  the  small  man 
behind  him.  "Sit  down!"  turning  again  to  Dostchak. 

The  old  man  immediately  seated  himself,  squatting 
down  upon  the  sand,  more  like  a  manikin  than  a  living 
man.  The  general  returned  to  his  tent;  the  little  man 
hurried  away  somewhere. 

"Allah,  all-powerful,  all-wise,  and  just!  allow  not 
the  wicked  to  triumph  over  the  good.  Do  not  place 
black  dirt  upon  my  clean  head.  Great  Allah,  you  are 
the  only  god  over  this  whole  world,  and  there  is  no 
other!  "  Thus  softly  muttered  Dostchak,  scarcely  mov- 
ing his  dry,  senile  lips. 


82  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

ATAM    KUL. 

NATALIA,  accompanied  by  several  officers,  emerged 
from  her  tent  and  sauntered  through  the  familiar  camp. 
The  lame  Cossack,  limping  along  on  his  crutches,  kept 
abreast  of  her,  joking  with  little  Petka.  The  child  held 
tightly  to  his  mother's  clothes,  striving  to  adjust  his 
short  little  legs  to  the  steps  of  the  grown  people.  This 
was,  however,  not  very  difficult  for  him,  because  Natalia 
accommodated  her  movements  to  those  of  her  son,  and 
the  whole  group  of  promenaders  advanced  very  slowly. 

They  had  long  since  discussed  all  subjects  of  inter- 
est, and  being  for  the  moment  without  any  material  for 
conversation,  they  went  along  silently.  Some  one 
hummed  a  march,  the  others  mechanically  keeping 
step  to  the  tune. 

"  Petka,"  the  Cossack  broke  the  silence,  "  come  and 
sit  on  my  shoulder.  I'll  carry  you.  Climb  up,  young 
man!  Kustikof,  set  him  up  here." 

"Don't  want  to!"  replied  the  child,  clinging  still 
tighter  to  the  clothes.  "  I  walk!  walk!  " 

"  Never  mind;  let  him  get  used  to  walking,"  said 
Natalia.  "Well,  how  is  your  back,  Karpof?"  turning 
to  a  young  soldier  of  the  line  who  not  long  since  had 
sprained  his  back  drawing  a  heavy  tub  of  water  from 
the  well. 

"  It's  all  right,  little  Mother  Natalia  Martinovna, 
as  if  taken  away  by  your  hand,"  pleasantly  replied  the 
soldier,  springing  to  his  legs  and  standing  at  "  atten- 
tion." 


ATAM    KUL.  83 

"  They  are  cured  by  a  single  word  from  you!  "  joked 
the  old  doctor,  corning  out  of  the  nearest  tent,  in  his 
gray  nankeen  blouse,  and  joining  the  promenaders. 
"  You  simply  take  all  the  practice  away  from  us  doc- 
tors! " 

"  Well,  to  a  soldier  a  kind  word  and  a  gill  of  whisky 
are  more  beneficial  than  a  whole  pood  [forty  pounds]  of 
your  dirty  apothecary's  stuff,"  remarked  one  of  the  offi- 
cers. "  My  mouth  is  still  bitter  from  the  last  dose  you 
gave  me." 

"  My  leg  here  is  getting  worse  and  worse,"  gruffly 
broke  in  the  Cossack  "  It  may  have  to  be  cut  off  yet.  I 
would  have  long  since  put  a  bullet  through  my  fore- 
head were  it  not  — 

"  Natalia  Martinovna,  cure  him  with  a  k ,"  began 

the  same  officer;  but  he  stopped,  and  swallowed  the 
remainder  of  the  sentence,  under  the  influence  of  a 
severe  look  from  Natalia. 

"The  dysentery  is  subsiding,"  reported  the  doctor, 
hurriedly — "it  is  much  less  virulent;  there  were  eight 
scorpion-bites;  the  drummer's  forefinger  was  ampu- 
tated to-day;  two  bottles  of  port- wine  were  stolen  from 
the  dispensary." 

"Oh,  look  there,  gentlemen!"  exclaimed  Kustikof. 
"What  a  crowd  there  is  gathering  at  the  general's! 
What  a  lot  of  people!  Let  us  go  there!  " 

"  Let  us  go,"  calmly  replied  Natalia.  The  whole 
group,  passing  by  the  long  picket-ropes  of  the  artil- 
lery, directed  their  steps  to  the  general's  headquarters. 

In  front  of  the  general's  tents  a  considerable  mul- 
titude was  indeed  assembling,  forming  a  half-circle 
facing  the  principal  tent,  and  observing  with  undivided 
attention  something  that  was  going  on  there.  The 
foremost  ranks  of  the  crowd  were  occupied  chiefly 

6 


84  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

by  officers;  behind  them  stood  some  infantrymen  with 
loaded  arms,  and  in  rear  of  them  a  dozen  or  two  of  Cos- 
sacks and  a  great  crowd  of  native  militiamen,  lending 
the  scene  a  touch  of  color  with  their  bright,  wide- 
striped  cloaks.  Passing  horsemen  halted,  and,  raising 
themselves  in  their  stirrups,  looked  from  their  saddles 
over  the  heads  of  those  in  front.  The  curious  were 
flocking  together  from  all  directions,  in  such  numbers 
that  when  Natalia  Martinovna  arrived  it  was  with 
much  difficulty,  in  spite  of  the  willingness  of  the 
crowd  to  give  way,  that  a  narrow  path  was  cleared  to 
allow  her  and  her  companions  to  pass. 

The  general  sat  on  an  iron  folding-chair  at  the 
entrance  of  his  tent;  about  him  and  at  his  back  stood 
a  few  staff  officers.  Within  the  darker  square  of  the 
passage  leading  to  an  inner  compartment,  still  other 
figures  were  indistinctly  visible. 

Not  more  than  three  paces  in  front  of  the  general 
stood  the  prisoner;  he  was  unfettered  and  his  free  hands 
hung  down  beside  his  body.  His  head  was  bent  slightly 
forward;  the  whole  body  was  strangely  distorted  or 
twisted;  the  knees  nearly  touched,  and  trembled  slightly 
—  perhaps  with  fright,  perhaps  with  subdued  emotion; 
the  muscular  bare  legs  buried  themselves  in  the  sand, 
and  stood  as  if  petrified,  without  changing  position  for 
a  second.  The  fingers  of  the  hands  were  impatiently 
picking  at  the  dirty  shreds  of  his  cloak.  The  closely 
shorn  head  was  entirely  uncovered,  being  even  without 
the  usual  "tibetaika"  (flat  Bashkir  cap).  A  few  dirty 
scabs  and  several  long  scars  showing  signs  of  healing 
were  visible  upon  this  angular,  purely  Mongolian  skull. 
The  eyes  looked  up  from  beneath  the  brows  directly 
upon  the  general.  The  look  was  calm,  and  almost 
apathetic. 


ATAM    KUL.  85 

In  line  with  him  stood  two  infantrymen  with  guns 
at  their  sides,  and  a  Cossack  who  had  removed  his  cap. 
In  their  immediate  rear  there  was  a  little  open  space, 
but  behind  that,  packed  closely,  and  in  perfect  immo- 
bility, stood  the  front  ranks  of  the  spectators.  Dost- 
chak  was  nowhere  visible. 

"To  be  sure,"  said  the  general,  in  French,  "the 
similarity  is  great;  but  there  seem  to  be  more  data 
indicating  that  it  is  not  he.  If  it  were  not  for  the  dec- 
laration of  that  native  —  may  the  devil  take  him!  —  I 
should  have  done  with  him  before  this.  Now  we 
must,"  continued  the  general,  with  a  vexed,  impatient 
gesture  —  "but  that  can  not  be  done!  Why  did  that 
fool  turn  up  here?  " 

"We  might  send  for  that  Persian,"  advised  a  staff 
officer  with  gold  epaulets  upon  his  crumpled  blouse. 
"  He  must  know  Atam  Kul  as  he  is  now.  He  has 
probably  seen  him  with  Mat-Nias." 

"  See  to  it;  give  the  necessary  orders!  " 

"  Well,  surely  this  is  Atam  Kul,"  said  somebody  in 
the  tent,  in  a  subdued  tone.  "  No  matter  how  one  looks 
at  the  thing,  it  must  be  he,  I  would  be  willing  to  lay 
any  reasonable  wager." 

"All  right;  back  your  opinion,  you  speak  so  con- 
fidently." 

"  Let  him  go  to  the  devil!  " 

"  At  the  same  time,  that  fellow  Dostchak  must  bring 
some  incontrovertible  proofs.  It  is  very  interesting, 
but  I  think  it  is  all  nonsense." 

"  He  seems  so  confident.  It  almost  grieves  me  to 
look  at  the  unfortunate  fellow  —  they'll  be  sure  to  hang 
him!  But  whom  are  they  bringing  now?  That  must 
be  another  witness.  His  face  seems  familiar." 


86  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  That  is  the  Persian  deserter  who  was  caught  yester- 
day. Listen!  listen!  " 

From  behind  the  tent  appeared  the  Persian,  bending 
over  almost  to  the  ground.  He  was  very  pale,  or  rather 
ash-colored,  and  shook  as  if  attacked  with  fever.  He 
did  not  know  why  he  was  called,  and  observing  the 
prisoner,  hesitated  and  tried  to  back  out  again. 

"Goon!"  And  he  was  pushed  ahead  vigorously  by 
the  knee  of  his  Cossack  escort. 

"  Good-day!  "  said  the  general. 

The  Persian  trembled  and  squatted  down. 

"  Do  you  know  that  man? "  asked  the  general,  nod- 
ding his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  prisoner.  "  He 
weakens!  "  he  continued  aside  to  the  staff  officer. 

The  Persian  remained  silent,  looking  from  side  to  side 
with  wandering  eyes,  evidently  avoiding  the  point  to 
which  his  attention  was  directed. 

"  Look  there!  "  the  Cossack  prompted  him. 

"Who  is  that?"  The  general  repeated  his  question. 
"  Well,  don't  be  afraid.  What  do  you  fear?  Look  well, 
and  tell  me  who  it  is.  Interpret  this  for  him." 

An  officer  of  small  stature,  with  a  dusky  face  of 
foreign  type,  interpreted.  The  Persian  listened  attent- 
ively, looked  furtively  at  the  prisoner,  and  lowered  his 
head. 

"  I  do  not  know  him.  He's  a  Khivan,  that  I  know, 
but  who  he  is  I  do  not  know." 

"  You  know  the  face  of  Atam  Kul?  "  asked  the  inter- 
preter; "  the  one  who  ran  away  from  us  and  now  serves 
the  Khan  of  Khiva?  " 

"Atam  Kul?  "  repeated  the  Persian. 

"  Well,  yes!  " 

"  He  who  was  a  great  commander  with  the  Russians? 
He  is  a  great  man  with  the  Khan  —  Atam  Kul  Dakhta 


ATAM    KUL.  87 

[high  military  title].     I  have  seen  Atam  Kul;  I  know 
him.     Why  shouldn't  1  know  Atam  Kul?     Three  times 

—  no,  four  times,  exactly  four  times  —  the  sun  has  set 
since  Atam  Kul  ordered  me  to  be  beaten  with  a  stick, 
but  I  ran  away.     I  know  Atam  Kul  well." 

There  was  a  general  involuntary  smile,  and  even 
suppressed  laughter  became  audible  in  the  crowd.  All 
seemed  to  feel  somewhat  easier.  The  calm  voice  in  the 
tent  resumed:  "Well,  my  dear  fellow,  is  that  Atam 
Kul?  You  were  so  firmly  convinced,  would  you  be 
willing  to  lay  two  bottles  and  some  preserved  lobster? " 

"  Oh,  the  devil;  it  is  positively  all  the  same  to  me!  " 

"  He  lies,  brethren,  that  Persian,"  one  of  the  Cossacks 
whispered  to  his  companion.  "  He  is  evidently  putting 
it  on  thick.  How  can  these  officers  believe  him?" 

"  Shall  we  shoot  him  or  hang  him?  "  inquired  a  young 
infantryman. 

"  We'll  cut  him  into  slices  and  make  straps  of  his  hide 

—  will  that  please  you?  " 

"  Be  quiet —  they  are  talking." 

"Where  is  Atam  Kul  now?"  the  general  asked  the 
Persian. 

"  How  can  I  tell  where  Atam  Kul  is  now?  The  sun 
has  set  four  times  since  Atam  Kul  was  with  Mat-Nias. 
Four  thousand  horsemen,  four  thousand  footmen,  and 
one  hundred  cannon  were  with  Atam  Kul.  Atam  Kul 
Dakhta  is  a  great  man  with  the  Khan  of  Khiva." 

"  Drive  the  fool  away!  " 

"  Go  on!  get  out!  Be  thankful  that  you  are  whole!  " 
The  Persian  was  led  from  the  scene  without  being  given 
a  chance  to  make  his  bows  in  accordance  with  oriental 
etiquette. 

A  new  witness  now  appeared  before  the  prisoner  — 
a  witness  who  had  been  in  the  tent  all  this  time,  hidden 


88  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

away.  The  witness  had  heard  everything,  and  waited. 
Now  he  went  around  in  the  prisoner's  rear,  altogether 
unexpectedly,  and  touched  his  shoulder.  The  man 
turned  quickly,  stepped  back,  and  lifted  his  hands.  He 
endeavored,  or  thus  it  appeared  to  those  observing  the 
gesture,  to  cover  up  his  face,  but  he  remembered  and 
kept  his  hands  half-raised. 

"  How  are  you,  Atam  Kul?  "  said  Dostchak.  "  Well, 
you  see  we  have  met  again.  Your  brother  Yunus  sent 
me  to  denounce  you.  Genderal,  please  hang  Atam 
Kulka  now!  " 

"  I  do  not  know  you,"  came  shrilly  through  the  closed 
teeth  of  the  prisoner. 

"Oh,  no;  you  know  me  very  well!  " 

Dostchak  drew  back  from  the  prisoner  a  little,  looked 
at  him  long  and  carefully,  and  then  turned  to  the  general. 

"Atam  Kul  was  small  —  about  so  high,"  and  Dost- 
chak held  his  hand  about  three  feet  from  the  ground, 
"  and  Yunus,  his  brother,  was  still  smaller.  I  served 
his  father.  I  took  them  to  bathe,  and  I  bathed  their 
father.  I  knew  them  all  three,  as  well  as  their  mother; 
I  knew  them  all.  The  father  had  on  his  back,  between 
the  shoulders,  about  a  hand's-breath  above  the  belt,  a 
dark  spot,  like  a  piece  of  felt,  of  the  shape  of  the  moon 
when  it  first  appears  in  the  sky  —  like  that,"  and 
Dostchak  stooped  and  drew  a  crescent  in  the  sand. 
"  I  speak  Russian.  You  also  speak  Russian,  and 
understand  it;  that  is  why  I  speak  it  now.  You  would 
like  to  eat  me  now,  but  your  teeth  are  too  short,  though 
you  are  not  a  man,  but  a  wolf.  You  are  worse  than  a 
wolf !"  said  Dostchak,  turning  to  the  prisoner.  "The 
oldest  son,  this  Atam  Kul,  also  had  a  dark  spot  on  his 
back,  in  the  same  place.  Give  the  order,  Genderal,  to 
take  off  his  cloak  and  his  shirt." 


ATAM    KUL.  89 

Dostchak  ceased  talking,  went  to  one  side  and  sat 
down  quietly  on  the  sand.  He  had  done  all  he  could, 
and  waited  how  it  would  turn  out. 

"  Take  off  his  clothes!  " 

In  a  moment  several  hands  seized  upon  the  prisoner. 
He  resisted  strongly.  One  soldier  fell;  another  seized 
him  sideways. 

"  He  is  strong,  the  devil!  " 

"  Throw  him  down  at  once!  " 

They  threw  him  down.  The  poor  fellow  got  on  his 
knees  and  screamed.  They  tore  off  cloak  and  shirt, 
raised  him  to  his  feet,  and  turned  his  back.  There  was 
the  black  spot.  The  interpreter  saw  it  at  once,  and  put 
his  finger  upon  it.  The  touch  of  his  finger  caused  the 
naked  back  to  shudder  nervously. 

"Well,  this  is  positive  proof,"  said  the  staff  officer. 

"  But  if  it  should  be  only  an  unfortunate  coincidence?" 
said  the  general,  in  French.  "  The  testimony  of  a  com- 
mon native  evidently  prejudiced  against  this  man  — 
whether  he  be  Atam  Kul  or  not — seems  insufficient. 
It  is  very  possible  that  Dostchak  wants  to  be  revenged 
for  something.  If  he  should  be  after  Atam  Kul's  life 
for  his  own  purposes  only?  It  is  strange  that  not  a 
single  soldier,  not  a  single  officer  recognized  him, 
though  so  many  of  us,  gentlemen,  know  him." 

At  this  moment  Natalia  Martinovna  entered  the 
circle.  She  held  her  son  in  her  arms  as  she  passed 
through  the  crowd.  The  boy  was  frightened  by  the 
number  of  people,  and  threw  his  arms  around  his 
mother's  neck,  looking  around,  with  his  eyes  wide 
open. 

Drawing  his  arms  up  into  the  sleeves  of  his  cloak, 
the  prisoner  turned  around  and  saw  the  woman. 

He  glanced  at  her.     This  glance  was  a  revelation.   It 


90  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

expressed  a  burning,  savage  passion.  The  glance  was 
instantaneous,  but  the  lame  Cossack  caught  it. 

"  Atam  Kul!  "  he  shouted. 

Natalia  trembled,  and  let  her  boy  glide  to  the  ground. 

"Atam  Kul,  Atam  Kul;  there  is  no  doubt  of  it  —  it 
is  Atam  Kul!  "  could  be  heard  all  around.  All  seemed 
to  have  been  convinced  of  it,  but  kept  silent,  as  if 
restrained  by  something;  but  this  "something"  vanished 
at  once  when  the  Cossack  spoke  out.  It  is  possible 
that  each  of  these  men  thought  at  the  time,  "  I  was 
not  the  first  to  speak,  at  any  rate." 

"  Well,  if  it  is  Atam  Kul,  it  is  Atam  Kul!  The  devil 
take  him!"  said  the  general,  rising  from  his  chair. 
"Cry  as  loud  as  you  can,  'Atam  Kul!  Atam  Kul! '  As  if 
I  had  not  known  it  long  ago!  "  he  grumbled  to  himself 
as  he  returned  to  his  tent.  "  Keep  a  strict  watch  upon 
him,  and  report  to  the  judge-advocate  to  order  a  court- 
martial !"  were  the  orders,  issued  in  short  and  broken 
sentences. 

"  He  is  lost!  "  Natalia  said,  softly. 

"  Yes,  he  can  hardly  wriggle  out  of  it  now,"  con- 
firmed Major  Pugovitzin. 

The  lame  Cossack  stood  as  if  stupefied,  pressing  his 
hand  to  his  burning  brow. 

An  unconquerable  savage  passion  impelled  the  betray- 
ing glance  —  a  glance  which  probably  would  not  have 
been  noticed  by  the  crowd,  but  the  very  passion  which 
instigated  it  made  it  comprehensible  to  the  Cossack, 
and  wrenched  from  him  the  fatal  exclamation. 

"The  blood  of  Yunus  will  be  avenged!"  proudly 
declared  Dostchak  that  evening. 


THE    KATA-DSHIL.  91 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    KATA-DSHIL    (SAND-STORM). 

ABOUT  2  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  a  strange,  suffocat- 
ing heat  began  to  pervade  the  atmosphere.  It  was 
not  the  ordinary  heat  of  the  sun;  it  was  something, 
also,  not  heretofore  experienced  by  the  white  blouses. 
It  became  more  and  more  difficult  to  breathe;  the 
body  broke  out  in  profuse  perspiration;  the  whole 
organism  grew  weak,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
blood  began  to  circulate  more  rapidly,  and  the 
heart  beat  with  increased  violence.  Everybody  felt 
inclined  to  sleep,  but  sleep  would  not  come.  Thirst 
increased  to  an  incredible  degree  —  the  crowd  around 
the  wells  grew  to  heretofore  unknown  proportions. 
The  heated,  motionless  atmosphere  weighed  upon 
everything  on  earth,  and  disposed  to  indolence,  to 
inaction.  .Labor  was  dropped  by  all  hands.  An  un- 
conquerable anxiety  came  over  everyone,  and  not  a 
man  but  experienced  the  feeling  of  a  frightful,  un- 
bearable nightmare. 

Animals  evidently  experienced  the  same  feelings  as 
the  men.  They  were  all  reeking  with  sweat.  Their 
colorless,  deathlike  eyes  were  immovable;  the  blood- 
shot nostrils  opened  wide,  and  ears  stood  up  in  full 
alarm.  The  horses  stood  at  their  picket-ropes  without 
touching  their  feed.  Their  legs  bent  under  them,  but 
they  would  not  lie  down;  all  instinctively  turning  their 
backs  in  one  direction  —  to  the  northeast. 

The  dogs  buried  themselves  in  the  sand  and  whined 
plaintively.  The  camels  laid  themselves  down,  with 


92  THE    TWO-LEGGEU    WOI.I  . 

necks  extended;  and,  strange  to  say,  they  also  turned 
their  backs  to  the  northeast. 

If  a  horseman  had  wished  to  proceed  in  a  north- 
easterly direction,  the  horse  would  perhaps  have  started, 
but  it  would  have  turned  round  as  soon  as  ever  the 
bridle  was  slackened  in  the  least  and  the  spurs  relaxed 
their  attack  upon  its  foaming  sides;  but  those  who 
were  bound  in  the  opposite  direction  could  scarcely 
restrain  the  ardor  of  their  horses,  who  were  pushing 
ahead  in  nervous  excitement. 

The  mules  gathered  in  troops  and  brayed  in  chorus, 
which,  together  with  the  sad  whining  of  dogs,  increased 
the  general  anxiety,  and  filled  the  minds  of  men  with 
melancholy. 

Nature  was  preparing  for  something  unusual,  and 
this  unusual  phenomenon  was  evidently  coming  from 
the  northeast. 

In  the  meantime  the  air  was  calm.  The  wind,  which 
had  been  blowing  the  day  before,  sweeping  together 
during  the  night  great  dunes  of  sand,  calmed  down 
completely,  and  at  the  present  moment  the  flame  of  a 
candle  lighted  in  the  open  air  would  have  been  motion- 
less, as  if  inclosed  in  a  glass  cylinder. 

The  sky  had  assumed  a  yellow,  reddish  tinge;  the 
light  of  the  sun  was  confined  to  a  muddy  disk,  without 
beams,  without  splendor.  One  could  freely  look  upon 
it  as  when  protected  by  smoked  glasses. 

Thus  time  went  on  until  7  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

As  the  sun  declined  toward  the  west  it  grew  more 
livid,  and  a  bloody  tinge  spread  over  the  ridges  of  sand, 
burying  the  intervening  hollows  in  deep-blue  shadows. 

A  threatening  black  wall  rose  up  above  the  horizon, 
coming  up  gradually  and  spreading  to  the  right  and 
left,  occupying  little  by  little  half  of  the  sky. 


THE    KATA-DSHIL.  93 

When  the  wall  came  up  to  the  sun,  the  livid  disk  sunk 
half  behind  it  and  then  disappeared  completely,  dense 
shadows  falling  upon  the  earth  immediately. 

They  fastened  down  their  tents  and  looked  after  the 
stacks  of  arms.  "  No  more  fires  must  be  built  —  those 
already  lighted  must  be  extinguished!  "  were  the  alarm- 
ing orders  issued. 

"  Kata-dshil!  kata-dshil!"  cried  the  natives,  seeking 
a  refiige  among  the  heavy  bales  of  the  camel-train. 

"  Well,  brethren,"  said  the  white  blouses  to  each  other, 
"  look  out  for  this  night!  There'll  be  such  a  gale!  ' 

The  first  blast  of  the  storm  came  about  half  an  hour 
after  sunset.  It  came  as  a  sudden  squall  of  great  vio- 
lence, but  quickly  subsided  again.  It  brought  with 
it  dense  clouds  of  fine,  sandy  dust,  upset  a  few  stacks 
of  arms,  and  tore  the  fly  off  one  of  the  tents.  The  dis- 
turbance caused  in  the  camp  by  this  dry  squall  was 
much  increased  by  the  darkness.  There  were  confused 
cries  of  alarm;  dark  figures  running  about  in  all  direc- 
tions, chasing  caps  and  hats  torn  away  by  the  wind,  col- 
liding with  each  other  and  falling,  rising  up  and  rush- 
ing away  again  somewhere  in  the  darkness. 

The  second  blast  came,  immediately  followed  by 
another  much  more  terrible  than  the  preceding  one. 
Red,  fiery  patches  were  flying  across  the  inky  sky,  a 
muffled  seemingly  subterranean  rumbling  made  itself 
heard,  and  the  atmosphere  was  pervaded  with  a  strong 
smell  of  sulphur. 

Now  the  furious  gale  carried  with  it  the  coarse  sand 
of  the  desert,  burning  and  blistering  the  faces,  hands, 
and  necks  —  all  parts  of  the  body  not  protected  by 
clothing.  The  horses  snorted  savagely  and  tore  at 
their  halters.  "  Drive  down  the  stakes!  Take  care  of 
the  horses!  May  God  preserve  us  from  having  them 


94  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

stampede! "  the  warning  voices  of  cavalry-men  and 
artillery-men  sounded  through  the  gloom. 

The  blasts  of  the  gale  were  constantly  increasing  in 
power.  One  thought  occupied  all  minds  —  to  keep 
upon  one's  legs  and  to  preserve  whatever  was  under 
one's  care.  It  was  impossible  to  take  note  of  what  was 
happening  elsewhere  in  this  howling  chaos.  Ha!  there 
was  a  shot;  a  second,  and  a  third.  A  futile  effort  of  a 
bugle  to  make  itself  heard,  resulting  in  sounds  resem- 
bling the  screech  of  gulls  in  the  distance.  An  alarm 
—  an  attack!  at  such  a  terrible  time! 

"  Here,  boys,  help!"  came  through  the  uproar  in  a 
terrified,  sinking  voice.  The  voice  came  from  the  spot 
where  Atam  Kul  was  confined;  the  soldiers  of  the 
guard  threw  themselves  in  that  direction.  Impenetra- 
ble darkness  surrounded  them;  the  flying  sand  com- 
pletely filled  their  eyes.  There,  straight  before  them 
loomed  a  massive  figure  as  if  rising  from  the  ground, 
and  jumped  aside.  "Halt!  halt!  What  devil  has  hold 
of  me?  I'll  not  let  you  go!  " 

"  Atam  Kul  has  escaped!  " 

"I'm  dying,  brothers!  Ah,  death  has  got  me  —  oh, 
the  deathly  sickness!  O  God!  "  some  one  groaned, 
squirming  in  the  sand  in  his  last  convulsions. 

"There  were  many  of  them  —  many  —  at  least  five. 
Three  fell  upon  the  sentry  at  once.  I  saw  it  with  my 
own  eyes.  Send  for  the  doctor,  and  bring  a  stretcher! 
What  is  it  now?" 

"  O  God,  have  mercy!  " 

A  new  blast  of  the  wind  brought  with  it  new  masses 
of  flying,  burning  sand. 

"We'll  be  buried  alive!  Most  holy  Mother  of  God, 
assist  us!  "  exclaimed  in  a  frightened  voice  a  young 
soldier,  a  raw  recruit,  and  new  to  the  desert  regions. 


THE    KATA-DSHIL.  90 

In  good  time,  when  it  was  still  daylight,  old  Dementy 
had  fastened  down  the  tent  of  his  mistress.  He  lashed 
everything  with  double  ropes,  drove  down  the  stakes, 
adding  some  new  ones  for  greater  security,  and  then, 
inspecting  his  own  work,  declared  that  it  would  hold. 

"  Have  no  fear,  matushka  Natalia  Martinovna,"  he 
strove  to  reassure  his  mistress,  who  was  anxiously  gaz- 
ing at  the  threatening  sky;  "  nothing  will  give  way. 
It's  quite  strong.  Don't  mind  anything  during  the 
night;  I'll  look  out." 

"  I  do  not  fear  for  myself,  Dementy,"  said  Natalia; 
"  not  for  me." 

"  I  know,  matushka,  your  honor;  I  know.  I'll  make 
some  tea  for  you.  The  orders  are  to  build  no  fires,  but 
if  one  knows  how  in  a  quiet  fashion  —  in  a  little  hole 
in  the  ground  —  no  one  will  see  it."  The  old  man  went 
away  to  make  his  arrangements  "in  a  quiet  fashion." 
Natalia  again  glanced  out  of  her  tent.  It  was  growing 
dark  very  suddenly;  the  sky  looked  frightful  indeed. 
A  feeling  of  heaviness  and  dread  took  possession  of 
her,  like  a  foreboding  of  evil,  of  some  fatal  disaster. 

"  Petka,  my  darling,"  she  addressed  the  child,  "don't 
be  afraid;  it  is  nothing.  There  will  be  a  big  wind,  but 
it  will  pass  by,  and  then  it  will  be  nice  and  cool.  You 
were  very  hot  to-day,  weren't  you?  " 

"  Hot,"  lisped  the  child,  stretching  himself  languidly 
upon  the  bed,  clad  only  in  his  little  shirt  with  collar 
turned  back.  "  Mama,  I  want  to  drink  tea;  mama,  give 
me  tea!  " 

"  In  a  minute,  sweetheart.  Dementy  has  gone  to 
make  tea.  He'll  bring  it,  and  we  will  drink  it  with 
lemon-drops.  You  like  lemon-drops,  don't  you?" 

"  Lemon-dop,"  repeated  the  child. 

"  My  dear  boy!  "  and  Natalia  took  her  son  into  her 


96  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

arms  in  a  passionate  embrace.  A  paroxysm  of  love  and 
yearning  for  her  boy  seemed  to  have  seized  her;  she 
covered  him  with  kisses. 

Suddenly  the  whole  tent  trembled,  the  walls  swelled 
like  the  sail  of  a  ship,  and  something-  gave  way  outside. 

"  Hold  on!  hold  on!  boys;  help  us!  "  cried  the  alarmed 
voice  of  old  Dementy.  "  What  a  wind  this  is!  the  rope 
is  cut  as  if  with  a  knife.  All  right!  don't  be  frightened, 
little  mother;  we'll  make  it  stand."  A  blast  of  wind 
extinguished  the  candle,  and  in  the  pitchy  darkness  the 
boy  began  to  cry.  "It's  the  end  of  the  world,  sure!" 
said  the  old  man,  and  then  suddenly  raised  his  voice: 
"Take  care,  you  devils!  Keep  away!  Can't  you  see 
you  are  on  top  of  a  man?  What  are  you  doing? 
What  do  you  mean?  O  Lord!  O  Lord!  " 

A  few  mounted  figures  were  rushing  straight  for  the 
tent,  and  knocked  down  the  old  man.  Suddenly  the 
whole  tent  bent  over  to  one  side,  the  last  ropes  broke, 
the  canvas  filled,  and  the  roof  was  carried  straight  up 
into  the  air  by  the  wind,  flapping  like  the  wings  of  some 
gigantic  specter,  and  quickly  disappeared.  At  that 
moment  Natalia,  who,  overcome  with  terror,  was  press- 
ing her  child  to  her  breast,  felt  two  strange  arms 
stealing  around  her  waist;  a  hot,  offensive  breath  was 
blowing  into  her  face.  Close  to  her  ear  she  heard 
whispered,  in  the  Kirghiz  language,  "  Take  her  away 
—  tie  her  to  the  saddle  —  quick!  "  The  voice  was  well 
known  to  her  —  she  recognized  the  speaker,  and  loudly, 
with  a  wail  of  inexpressible  despair,  she  cried,  "Help! 
save  me!  " 

She  felt  herself  dragged  over  the  sand;  some  one  was 
lifting  her  up  to  a  horse;  the  boy  was  torn  from 
her  arms.  She  sprang  forward  and,  frenzied  with 
despair,  fastened  her  teeth  to  something  that  came  in 


THE    KATA-DSHIL.  97 

her  way.  Somebody  groaned;  a  heavy  fist  struck  her 
brow  and  bent  back  her  head  almost  to  her  back  —  then 
she  lost  consciousness. 

The  lame  Cossack,  mounted  on  his  horse,  was  making 
his  way  through  the  uproar.  Around  him  crowded  a 
confused  mass  of  men,  mounted  and  on  foot,  shouting  to 
each  other.  He  proceeded  at  a  walk,  carefully,  bending 
over  in  his  saddle  and  looking  into  the  impenetrable 
mist  of  flying  sand  and  dust.  He  was  trying  to  make 
his  way  to  the  well-known  little  tent,  but  had  lost  his 
bearings,  and,  full  of  dismay,  was  cursing  his  own  care- 
lessness. How  was  he  to  find  her?  Where  was  she? 
He  no  longer  knew  the  points  of  the  compass.  Here 
he  ran  plump  against  a  line  of  infantry  standing  by 
their  arms.  The  long  rows  of  men  were  barely  visible. 
He  cried: 

"  What  troops  are  there?  " 

"  Third  Battalion  of  Riflemen!  " 

"  Are  you  on  your  own  ground,  or  have  you  moved? " 

"  On  our  own  ground!  " 

"Ah !  that  means  I  must  go  considerably  more  to  the 
right,"  thought  the  Cossack.  "  The  sappers  must  be 
close  by  here  —  ah!  here  they  are  —  but  where  are  their 
tool-boxes?  They  ought  to  be  in  front,  and  behind 
them  —  what  is  this?"  Something  round  rolled  from 
under  the  feet  of  his  horse,  which  fell  back  upon  its 
haunches.  "God!  why  am  I  not  with  her  at  such 
a  time!  "  the  Cossack  whispered  to  himself.  "What  is 
she  doing  now,  alone,  poor  woman?  Well,  Stepniak, 
let  us  get  on." 

A  shower  of  sparks  was  blown  crackling  across  the 
road  from  a  but  partly  extinguished  fire  of  one  of 
the  company  kitchens.  "Now  I'm  all  right!"  the 


98  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Cossack  congratulated  himself.  He  had  recognized 
the  place. 

All  at  once  a  shrill  cry  struck  his  ear;  it  was  a  woman's 
cry,  and  there  was  but  one  woman  in  the  camp.  With- 
out stopping  to  pick  his  way,  he  buried  the  spurs  in  the 
side  of  his  horse  until  it  screamed,  and,  throwing  back  its 
head,  nearly  crushed  its  rider's  face.  Straight  on  rushed 
the  Cossack  for  the  voice,  which  seemed  to  proceed  from 
the  midst  of  the  confused  throng.  Some  horseman  was 
being  surrounded  and  dragged  from  his  saddle;  another, 
also  mounted,  fighting  furiously,  was  struggling  in  the 
crowd.  He  also  soon  fell,  and  his  horse  was  neighing 
and  snorting  while  being  seized  by  the  bridle  by  a 
number  of  hands. 

"  Do  not  hit  him  —  take  him  alive !  "  somebody  shouted 
in  a  deep-bass  voice.  "  Don't  let  the  chief  rascal  escape; 
catch  him,  hold  him!  " 

"  Natalia  Martinovna,  where  are  you? "  the  Cossack 
shouted.  . 

"  Here,  here!  "  answered  several  male  voices. 

The  Cossack  jumped,  or  rather  let  himself  fall  off  his 
horse,  allowing  him  to  go  loose.  He  wanted  to  run,  but 
his  injured  leg  made  itself  felt  at  once.  He  ground  his 
teeth  with  pain,  but  limped  in  the  direction  whence  the 
cries  had  come. 

A  few  men  were  busy  over  something  lying  on  the 
sand.  The  gray  clothes  of  Natalia  caught  the  lame 
officer's  eye.  She  was  lying  there,  prostrate,  motion- 
less, giving  no  signs  of  life. 

"  She's  killed!  "  exclaimed  the  Cossack,  and  threw 
himself  over  the  body. 

"  She's  alive,  God  be  with  you!  She  has  only  fainted 
with  fright.  Have  you  looked  for  the  child?  No? 
Well,  search  for  it —  find  the  child!  " 


A    SAD    MORNING.  99 

''And  I  was  not  here!"  groaned  the  Cossack.     "O 
merciful  God!  do  not  let  that  happen!  " 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A    SAD    MORNING. 

MORNING  came,  gray,  misty,  and  sultry.  The  blasts 
of  the  gale  were  gradually  decreasing  in  strength,  but 
they  were  still  scattering  dense  clouds  of  sand  and  dust 
over  the  whole  camp.  Finally  the  hurricane  subsided 
into  an  even  but  fresh-blowing  wind,  which  stirred  up 
the  accumulations  of  dust,  blinding  one's  eyes,  making 
it  difficult  to  breathe  or  to  see,  even  at  a  short  distance. 

Efforts  were  inaugurated  to  repair  the  damages  of 
the  night  —  to  set  up  the  tents  that  had  been  over- 
thrown, and  to  collect  such  articles  as  the  whirlwind  had 
scattered  over  the  steppe.  Strong  scouting  parties  of 
Cossacks  were  sent  out  in  various  directions. 

The  news  of  the  disastrous  occurrences  of  the  night 
was  already  known  throughout  the  camp.  The  hearts 
of  all  felt  sad,  from  the  general  down  to  the  last  soldier; 
grief  and  anxiety  were  expressed  in  every  glance,  and 
occasionally  a  tear  would  be  seen  gliding  over  the  sun- 
burned faces,  leaving  dirty  marks  on  the  dust-covered 
cheeks.  Not  a  man  among  them  would  have  hesitated 
at  any  sacrifice  to  assuage  the  woman's  grief,  but  all 
knew  perfectly  well  that  consolation,  at  least  at  the 
present  moment,  was  out  of  the  question. 

When  it  became  light  enough  to  examine  into  the 
results  of  the  nocturnal  catastrophe,  the  state  of  affairs 
appeared  as  follows: 

7 


100  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF 

Natalia  Martinovna's  tent  had  been  blown  down  by 
the  wind;  one  of  its  walls  still  covered  all  its  contents. 
Through  the  folds  of  the  cloth  could  be  distin- 
guished the  back  of  the  iron  bedstead,  the  corners 
of  trunks,  the  edges  of  some  iron-bound  chest  which 
had  torn  through  the  cloth,  and  various  other  objects 
belonging  to  the  little  traveling  household.  The  roof 
had  been  carried  a  distance  of  twenty  paces,  and  had 
lodged  upon  a  sand-hill,  into  which  the  pointed  poles 
of  the  structure  had  buried  themselves.  It  could 
be  seen  through  the  dust,  resembling  a  gigantic  green 
parasol  turned  inside  out  in  a  storm.  A  few  expiring 
blasts  of  wind  —  the  last  remnant  of  the  gale  —  caused 
the  structure  to  flutter  and  fill  like  a  sail.  The  other 
wall  of  the  tent,  torn  in  halves,  lay  near  by,  and  from 
under  it  protruded  a  pair  of  bare  limbs,  partly  covered 
with  rough  leather  leggings.  They  pulled  them  out, 
and  found  a  dead  body  with  a  deep  bayonet-wound  in 
the  side  and  the  marks  of  violent  blows  about  the 
head.  On  examination  it  was  found  to  be  one  of  the 
pretended  servants  of  a  Bokhara  merchant,  from  the 
plundered  caravan. 

A  little  farther  on  a  crowd  of  soldiers  surrounded 
another  prostrate  body.  This  was  old  Dementy,  with 
a  deep  cut  in  his  head,  giving  no  signs  of  life.  In  his 
convulsively  clinched  fist  he  held  apiece  of  camel's-hair 
cloth,  nearly  the  whole  side  of  a  native  "  khalat." 
Three  soldiers  were  dragging  over  the  sand,  upon  a 
felt-mat,  still  another  corpse;  a  torn  cloak,  begrimed 
with  dust  and  blood,  had  been  thrown  carelessly  over 
the  body. 

"  It's  the  Persian  —  the  dog!  —  he's  gone!  "  said  one 
of  the  carriers.  "  He  evidently  did  not  die  here  —  he 
crawled  away;  we  found  him  near  the  picket-line." 


A    SAD    MORNING.  101 

"  Just  outside  the  line  there  lies  a  horse,"  remarked  a 
Cossack  who  accompanied  the  small  procession;  "  it  is 
none  of  ours.  You  know  the  devils  must  have  escaped 
to  Adam  Krilgan,  but  no  tracks  could  be  found  except 
this  carrion;  the  whole  country  has  been  swept  clean  by 
the  hurricane." 

In  the  guard-house  where  Atam  Kul  had  been  con- 
fined was  found  the  body  of  the  sentry,  but  the 
prisoner  had  left  no  trace  behind,  except  two  or  three 
impressions  of  bare  feet,  which,  God  knows  how,  had 
remained  undisturbed.  It  was  very  clear  who  were  the 
perpetrators  of  the  whole  outrage.  Atam  Kul,  not 
satisfied  with  the  opportunity  offered  for  his  own 
escape,  had  attempted  to  take  with  him  a  very  precious, 
much-coveted  prize.  By  accident  he  failed  to  gain  his 
real  object.  Little  Petka  was  nowhere  to  be  found, 
dead  or  alive. 

Natalia  returned  to  consciousness.  She  did  not 
weep  or  complain,  she  never  spoke,  but  her  very  silence 
told  of  so  much  suffering,  such  grief,  that  not  one  of 
those  surrounding  her  dared  to  console  her  in  words,  or 
even  look  at  her.  They  all  kept  silence;  the  officers 
merely  stood  around  her  with  downcast  eyes. 

"  If  you  only  — "  began  one  of  them,  but  only  sobbed 
like  a  child,  and  hurried  away,  in  order  not  to  grieve 
her  still  more  with  his  untimely  tears. 

The  woman  sat  as  if  petrified  —  like  a  statue  —  on  one 
of  the  trunks;  her  eyes  were  lifeless,  glassy;  a  thick 
strand  of  her  auburn  hair  hung  down  from  her  fore- 
head over  the  face;  a  white  shoulder  shone  through 
rents  in  her  garments,  torn  during  her  struggle;  the 
shoulder  was  shivering  slightly,  but  evidently  not  with 
cold. 

Kustikof  took  off  his  overcoat  and  laid  it  gently  over 


102  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Natalia's  shoulders;  she  did  not  even  notice  it.  The 
soldiers  set  up  her  tent,  talking  in  whispers.  The  stout 
doctor  was  bathing  Dementy's  head;  the  hospital 
steward  was  deftly  arranging  the  instruments  for  blood- 
letting, asking  in  a  whisper  for  a  towel  and  cup. 

They  set  up  the  tent,  repaired  damages,  and  put 
everything  in  its  usual  order. 

"Now,  my  little  dove,"  the  doctor  addressed  Natalia. 
"  Come  on,  my  daughter.  Lie  down  upon  the  bed  and 
rest.  I'll  give  you  a  drop  of  something,  and  you  must 
take  it.  Come,  now!  " 

"Where?"  Natalia  inquired  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  half 
unconsciously. 

"  Gentlemen,  please  assist  in  lifting  her.  Take  hold 
of  her  thus,  under  the  arms.  Now,  this  is  nice,"  con- 
tinued the  doctor;  "  but  easily,  gently.  With  God's 
help  you  will  get  better  and  strong.  You  are  young, 
you  know.  Everything  may  turn  out  well  yet.  We 
may  find  — 

Natalia  gave  vent  to  a  loud,  unearthly  scream,  and 
again  relapsed  into  unconsciousness. 

"Oh,  what  a  beast  I  am!"  said  the  doctor,  striking 
himself  on  the  forehead.  "  It  was  that  unlucky  word 
'  find '  that  did  it.  Old  fool  that  I  am!  " 

A  horse  stopped  before  the  tent,  snorted,  and  began 
to  paw  the  sand  with  its  foreleg.  From  its  saddle 
alighted  the  general,  who  threw  the  reins  to  a  Cossack, 
and  entered  the  tent. 

"  Well,  how  is  it? "  he  began,  then  glanced  around, 
looked  at  Natalia  Martinovna  lying  upon  the  bed, 
wrung  his  hands,  and  walked  out. 

The  scouting  parties  had  not  yet  returned.  The  lame 
Cossack  was  with  one  of  them,  having  set  out  before 
dawn  with  his  platoon,  and  two  reports  from  him  had 


IN    PURSUIT.  103 

already  reached  the  camp.  One  was  brought  by  a  Cos- 
sack, with  a  request  that  some  reinforcements  be  sent 
after  him,  to  provide  for  an  emergency;  the  other 
report  was  brought  by  a  native,  and  this  last  one  fanned 
into  life  in  the  breasts  of  all  in  the  camp  a  small  spark 
of  hope. 

"  I  am  on  the  trail,"  he  had  written  with  a  pencil 
upon  a  torn  piece  of  newspaper. 

From  all  these  happenings  the  most  dire  conse- 
quences resulted. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN    PURSUIT. 

THE  Cossacks  pursued  at  a  full  gallop,  the  platoon 
being  spread  over  a  considerable  distance.  The  riders, 
bending  from  their  saddles,  carefully  noted  every  track 
in  the  sand,  every  suspicious  indentation  or  cavity. 
They  looked  ahead  and  to  either  side,  but  always  push- 
ing on  without  interruption,  belaboring  with  their  whips 
their  shaggy,  stumpy,  poorly  fed  and  ill-groomed,  but 
obedient  and  enduring  little  beasts. 

The  lame  Cossack  was  in  the  lead.  Near  him,  lifting 
himself  in  his  stirrups,  rode  a  young  Yunker  Cossack 
(cadet),  and  an  old  sergeant,  with  thin  red  beard, 
sprinkled  with  gray,  on  whose  homespun  shirt  dangled 
two  crosses. 

All  listened  intently,  ceaselessly  using  their  eyes,  and 
rarely  exchanging  a  few  brief  remarks. 

The  detachment  resembled  a  pack  of  hounds  in  full 
cry.  The  abrupt,  broken  conversation  reminded  one 


104  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

somewhat  of  the  yelping  of  dogs  who  have  picked  up 
the  scent. 

"  Nothing!  "  exclaimed  the  sergeant,  shaking  his 
head  and  whipping  his  white-legged  animal. 

"  Have  we  not  been  drawing  to  the  right  a  litttle  too 
much,  Esaul?"  the  Yunker  inquired,  somewhat  hes- 
itatingly. 

"We've  got  to  go  straight  ahead,  all  the  same,"  the 
sergeant  replied,  authoritatively.  "  We  are  gaining  on 
them,  and  we  must  keep  on.  The  "esaul"*  never 
answered  at  all,  but  looked  searchingly  straight  ahead 
where  a  wavy  dark  line  was  clearly  denned  in  the 
brightening  dawn. 

"  If  they  depend  on  the  horses  they  stole  from  our 
camp,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  they'll  not  go  far,  but  if 
they  had  fresh  horses  ready  for  them,  then  —  shoot  me 
in  the  beard!  —  it's  a  nasty  business.  To  chase  the  wind 
over  the  field  or  the  Turkoman  over  the  steppe  is  all 
the  same!  " 

"Halt!" 

One  of  the  Cossacks  went  head  over  heels,  landing 
square  upon  the  sand. 

"  What  is  it,  brethren?  " 

They  all  halted. 

"  Are  these  tracks  of  shod  hoofs?  " 

"  Our  shoes  —  Orenburg  shoeing —  they're  ours." 

"We've  found  them! " 

A  sandy  level  occupying  the  interval  between  two 
dunes  here  cut  across  the  trail,  and  at  its  farther  edge 
there  was  a  piece  of  ground  swept  clean  by  the  winds. 
Here  a  few  horse-tracks  had  been  preserved,  and  at 

*  "  Esaul,"  non-commissioned  officer  of  Cossacks  —  of  corporal's 
rank. —  TRANSLATOR. 


IN    PURSUIT.  105 

these  the  Cossacks  were  looking  carefully  after  coming 
to  a  halt. 

"It  must  be  theirs;  there's  nobody  else." 

Dostchak  and  another  native  were  with  this  party, 
both  of  them  keeping  considerably  in  advance  of  the 
platoon,  as  leaders  keep  ahead  of  the  pack.  They 
galloped  up  to  the  top  of  the  ridges,  looking,  sniffing, 
and  listening,  and  again  disappeared  in  the  hollows, 
remaining  invisible  for  a  time,  appearing  again  at  the 
very  spot  where  nobody  expected  to  see  them. 

"  Dostchak  is  working  hard!  "  said  the  Cossacks,  shak- 
ing their  heads  and  following  the  nimble  horseman 
with  their  eyes. 

"  Well,  tura  [master],  what  is  this?  "  he  asked,  as  he 
galloped  up  to  the  lame  Cossack,  holding  in  his  hand  a 
soiled  red  ribbon.  "  Behind  that  hill  over  there  I 
stopped  a  little  to  let  my  horse  breathe.  The  sand  is 
moist  there,  and  this  was  lying  right  there." 

"  Petka's  belt!  "  groaned  the  Cossack.  His  eyes  filled 
with  moisture,  and  red  spots  appeared  upon  his  cheeks. 

Profiting  by  the  brief  halt,  the  Cossacks'  horses  also 
gathered  breath,  and  a  few  succeeded  in  having  a  roll 
on  the  sand  (a  habit  of  the  horse  of  the  steppe),  and 
then  shook  themselves  and  galloped  on  again.  From 
here  the  lame  Cossack  dispatched  the  native  to  the 
camp  with  his  brief,  laconic  epistle. 

The  direction  taken  in  the  pursuit  had  now  been  fully 
justified.  They  went  on  to  the  spot  described  by  Dost- 
chak, and  halted  again.  Yes,  there  the  others  had 
halted  also.  There  were  tracks  of  three  horses  only. 
With  Atam  Kul  there  had  been  five  men  —  he  was  the 
sixth.  Two  dead  bodies  remained  in  camp  and  the  car- 
cass of  one  horse  was  found;  that  meant  that  there 
were  four  riders  for  three  horses  —  one  of  them  was 


106  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

carrying  two.  No  fresh  horse  had  been  waiting  for 
them,  in  the  sergeant's  opinion.  In  accordance  with 
these  considerations,  the  fugitives  could  not  be  far  off; 
their  horses  must  be  tired — especially  the  one  with 
two  men  on  his  back.  There  were  no  other  tracks  in 
sight;  that  pointed  to  the  absence  of  any  hostile  force 
in  the  neighborhood.  And  even  if  they  were  to 
encounter  a  small  band  of  horsemen,  a  hundred  or  so, 
they  could  not  prove  very  formidable  antagonists  to  a 
platoon  of  well-armed  Cossacks.  The  only  thing  was, 
to  lose  no  time  —  and  they  lost  none. 

Encouraged  by  their  first  success,  the  Cossacks  re- 
sumed the  chase.  Something  looms  up  in  front  —  a 
fallen  horse,  with  legs  extended,  the  body  swelled  like 
a  barrel  and  eyes  glassy  and  staring;  on  one  side  of  the 
carcass  quite  a  pile  of  sand  had  accumulated. 

"This  must  have  lain  here  for  some  time,"  remarked 
one  of  the  Cossacks,  pointing  at  the  sand-heap. 

"  It  is  still  warm,"  said  the  sergeant.  "  As  to  the 
sand,  it  doesn't  take  long  to  pile  up  when  the  wind 
blows  strong.  That  horse  may  have  lain  here  half 
an  hour  —  no  more.  The  legs  are  still  limber,  don't 
you  see? " 

Other  tracks  were  found,  and  among  the  hoof-tracks 
there  were  impressions  of  naked  feet;  the  steps  were 
long,  the  toes  pressed -deeply  into  the  ground,  the  heels 
hardly  touched  at  all.  "  The  rascal  is  running,  holding 
onto  the  stirrup;  that  is  why  he  steps  so  far.  Now 
they  must  be  close  by  —  they  can't  go  far  in  that 
fashion." 

The  face  of  the  lame  Cossack  was  illuminated  with 
hope.  "  In  a  few  minutes,"  he  thought;  "  perhaps  behind 
those  very  hills." 

"  Hey!  "     A  general  cry  arose  almost  simultaneously 


IN    PURSUIT.  107 

—  a  cry  of  triumph.  They  ran  against  Dostchak  and 
nearly  overthrew  him.  Not  more  than  a  hundred  paces 
ahead  of  them  a  horseman  emerged  from  a  depression 
of  the  ground  at  a  feeble,  tired  gait.  All  recognized  at 
once  the  broad,  round-shouldered  back.  The  rider  held 
with  one  hand  some  small  object  wrapped  in  a  fold  of 
his  cloak;  with  the  other  hand,  armed  with  a  whip,  he 
was  persistently  lashing  the  unfortunate  animal  which 
bore  him,  on  the  head,  on  the  croup,  on  the  belly,  wher- 
ever he  could  reach.  Behind  this  horseman,  clinging 
closely  to  the  sand,  two  men  on  foot  climbed  out  of  the 
hollow,  clad  in  their  shirts  alone.  They  looked  around 
like  wolves  at  bay,  and  hastened  on  after  the  other  to 
get  hold  of  his  stirrups  again.  Another  rider  came  in 
sight,  but  his  animal  could  proceed  only  at  a  walk,  and 
staggered  under  the  saddle,  ready  to  fall. 

The  Cossacks  gave  a  yell  and  broke  into  a  full  run; 
but  a  moment  later  another  yell,  much  louder,  re- 
sounded from  the  sand-hills  and  hollows  all  around 
them.  The  sands  became  dotted  with  high  black  caps 
and  dirty  red  cloaks.  The  steppe  thundered  under  the 
hoofs  of  numberless  horses. 

The  platoon  at  once  rallied  in  a  group,  and  the 
Cossacks  instinctively  slid  from  their  saddles.  A  party 
of  Turkomans,  numbering  several  hundred,  began  to 
form  a  wide  circle  around  the  platoon,  flanking  the 
men  from  the  Ural,  to  the  right  and  left,  in  front  and 
rear. 

"Ah!  shoot  them  in  the  beard!"  shouted  the  old 
sergeant,  and  toppled  over  from  his  saddle. 

"  He's  killed,  brethren,  he's  killed!  "  And  like  a  bag 
another  Cossack  fell  from  his  saddle. 

"  Keep  straight,  close  together!     Guard  the  horses; 


108  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

don't  let  go  of  your  bridles!  "  roared  the  lame  Cossack. 
"  Don't  be  afraid;  we'll  get  out  of  this!  " 
The  first  shots  were  scarcely  heard  by  the  Cossacks. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    RESCUE. 

THE  reinforcements  left  the  camp.  The  detachment 
was  dispatched  to  meet  an  emergency,  but  those  com- 
posing it  did  not  know  that  the  emergency  had  already 
arisen. 

It  was  supposed  that  the  Cossacks  had  advanced 
about  twelve  versts,  perhaps  more.  At  a  distance  of 
five  versts  shots  could  be  easily  heard,  especially  with 
the  wind  fair.  The  expedition  had  already  marched 
that  distance  and  heard  nothing,  consequently  every- 
thing must  be  all  right  ahead  of  them. 

That  was  the  general  opinion  of  the  small  expedition, 
and  therefore  they  advanced  steadily  without  hurrying 
in  the  least,  saving  the  strength  of  both  horses  and 
men  —  all  the  more  because  marching  in  the  deep  sand, 
in  hot  weather,  is  very  laborious. 

A  squadron  of  Cossacks  was  in  advance,  followed  by 
a  company  of  infantry,  the  latter  keeping  at  a  con- 
siderable distance.  The  infantry  does  not  fraternize 
much  with  the  horsemen. 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Major  Pugovitzin,  who  led  the 
expedition,  "  as  a  reconnaissance  it  is  not  altogether 
useless  —  they  have  to  be  made;  but  altogether  it  seems 
a  piece  of  foolishness  to  me  —  we  are  going  for  nothing. 
They  talk  of  a  night  attack —  the  plague  take  them! — 


THE    RESCUE.  109 

of  a  demonstration,  supported  by  a  strong  force  in 
reserve.  It's  all  stuff  and  nonsense.  The  whole  uproar 
was  caused  by  Atam  Kul  and  his  companions.  That 
Persian  was  a  cunning  beast!  " 

"  He's  got  his  reward!  "  remarked  Kustikof. 

"  Got  his  reward?  Yes;  but  that  was,  after  all,  only 
a  lucky  accident  —  a  bullet  fired  at  random  when  it 
was  as  dark  as  pitch.  It  was  lucky  we  did  not  hit  our 
own  men!  " 

"  Golovin  went  in  pursuit  at  once.  He  may  catch  up 
with  them,  capture  Atam  Kul,  rescue  Petka.  O  God! 
what  would  I  not  give  to  have  that  chance!  " 

"Would  you  give  a  quarter's  salary?"  Pugovitzin 
asked,  with  a  smile. 

"All  right!  You  are  always  joking,  but,  by  God!  I 
do  not  take  it  that  way.  It  is  nice  to  be  a  Cossack, 
a  cavalryman!  " 

"Why?" 

"  I  should  have  set  out  at  once,  together  with  Golovin. 
I  should  have  searched  every  corner,  examined  every- 
thing, and  caught  them.  But  when  you  are  hampered 
with  infantry  at  two  versts  an  hour!  The  Cossacks  will 
have  finished  everything  without  us  before  we  get  up 
with  them." 

"Oh,  no;  they  can't  do  much  without  us!  " 

"It's  beastly  luck!  " 

"  Well,  boy,  we  must  have  patience.  What  are  you 
stopping  there  for?  Why  is  the  fourth  platoon  lagging 
behind?  What  are  the  non-commissioned  officers 
doing? "  The  captain  halted  his  shaggy  horse  and 
looked  back  at  the  rear  of  the  column. 

The  tired  soldiers  hurried  forward  and  closed  up  with 
those  in  front. 

"Eh,    Proshka,   you  bandy-legged   devil!"   growled 


110  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Corporal   Bubnof,  "  can't  you  keep   your  pipe   going 
while  marching  along?" 

"  I  spilled  my  tobacco,  uncle.     In  a  minute  I'll  be  up 
with  them." 

"  It  is  insupportable!  "  Kustikof  muttered  to  himself. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  nice,  you  know,"  Pugovitzin  resumed 
the  conversation  a  little  later  —  "  wouldn't  it  be  nice? 
Natalia  Martinovna  is  sitting  there,  killing  herself  —  it 
is  no  joke,  such  a  grief;  not  every  mother  could  stand 
it.  She's  lost  all  hope  —  is  in  despair.  All  at  once 
a  horseman  on  a  tired,  dusty  horse  rides  up  to  the  tent, 
dismounts,  and  delivers  to  her  the  lost  son.  '  Take  him 
—  here  he  is,  alive  and  well ! '  Do  you  know,  it  would  be 
well  if  there  was  some  slight  wound  to  show,  in  the 
hand  or  on  the  shoulder  —  not  too  dangerous  and  not 
too  painful  —  plenty  of  blood  —  that  would  serve  as 
decoration.  Wouldn't  it  be  nice? "  And  the  captain 
bent  over  from  his  horse  and  slapped  the  younger  officer 
on  the  shoulder,  laughing  joyously  through  the  dense 
clouds  of  tobacco-smoke  from  his  cheap  cigar. 

"You  are  always  joking — it  is  very  serious  to  me. 
I  grieve  when  I  remember  — 

"  You're  sorry;  and  do  you  think  I  am  happy?  Only, 
all  of  you  who  were  sitting  around  her  there  could 
scarcely  keep  from  whimpering,  and  making  long  faces 
—  that  did  not  help  her.  I  know  the  little  lady.  I 
knew  her  long  ago.  She  can  bear  grief  —  she  has  had 
experience.  She  is  stronger  than  any  of  you.  Of 
course,  she  was  taken  unawares  by  a  terrible  shock  — 
but  only  wait;  she  will  get  over  it.  She  will  discover 
more  quickly  than  you  what  it  is  necessary  to  do  and 
how  to  proceed.  She  has  no  need  of  consoling  words 
or  commiserative  tears,  and  your  long  faces  can  do  her 
no  good." 


THE    RESCUE.  Ill 

Pugovitzin  ceased  talking,  took  several  strong  pulls 
at  his  cigar,  and  flung  the  stump  away  into  the  sand. 

"  What  is  keeping  our  Cossacks  back?  They  are 
going  very  slowly,"  he  continued,  looking  ahead  attent- 
ively from  under  the  long  visor  of  his  cap.  "  Yes,  it's 
a  foolish  business;  they'll  not  catch  Atam  Kul;  he  did 
not  start  out  to  fall  into  our  hands  again.  I  know  the 
wolf;  you'll  not  see  the  boy  again.  It  was  lucky  the 
mother  was  rescued  in  time!  " 

"  Is  there  no  hope? "  Kustikof  asked,  or  rather  re- 
marked mechanically. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  say  that  —  anything  may  happen,"  said 
Pugovitzin,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "Look!  Isn't 
somebody  coming  back  at  a  full  gallop? " 

"  Yes;  two  men.  What  has  happened?  Do  you  hear 
anything?"  An  alarmed  expression  overspread  the 
young  officer's  face.  The  soldiers  had  quickened  their 
steps;  they  were  almost  running.  All  weariness  was 
forgotten;  they  forgot  they  were  wading  ankle-deep  in 
sand.  The  whole  company  was  now  moving  at  a  double- 
quick,  and  many  of  them  were  looking  to  their  guns 
while  running. 

"  Firing!  "  said  Pugovitzin. 

"  They  are  shooting,  boys;  they  are  shooting.  Our 
Cossacks  are  hurrying  up.  What  can  it  be?  Now  our 
Cossacks  are  beginning  to  fire." 

"  That's  a  bad  habit!  Easy,  brethren;  there  is  some- 
body tumbling  —  he  is  off  his  horse!  " 

"  Get  along,  get  along!     How  heavy  the  firing  is!  " 

"  A  falconet  [native  howitzer],  I  suppose." 

While  exchanging  these  remarks  the  soldiers  had 
regained  their  breath,  and  were  now  setting  their 
accouterments  to  rights  and  getting  at  their  cartridge- 
boxes. 


112  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Kustikof  gave  his  horse  the  whip  and  hurried  for- 
ward, stirring  up  the  unfortunate  animal  with  his  heels 
and  sword-scabbard  at  the  same  time.  He  did  not  see 
or  hear  anything  beyond  the  distant  reports  of  gun- 
shots fired  by  the  squadron  of  Cossacks  belonging  to 
the  detachment,  who  had  now  halted  along  the  summit 
of  a  sandy  ridge.  The  Cossacks  could  be  seen  to  dis- 
mount and  then  mount  again,  some  moving  a  little  to 
the  right  and  then  back  again,  and  once  more  forward 
over  the  ridge.  They  were  evidently  undecided,  and 
waiting  for  the  infantry  to  come  up  —  the  favorite  bul- 
wark of  the  Cossack,  when  any  affair  seems  to  be  too 
much  for  him. 

This  bulwark,  a  handful  of  white  blouses,  numbering 
about  seventy,  was  rapidly  approaching,  and  in  this 
movement,  in  contrast  to  those  of  the  Cossacks,  there 
was  nothing  indecisive,  nothing  indicative  of  any  doubt. 
The  white  blouses  knew  where  to  go  and  what  they 
had  to  do. 

"Don't  get  excited  —  easy;  we'll  get  there,  if  they 
don't  run  away!  "  could  be  heard  in  the  calm,  reassur- 
ing bass  voice  of  Major  Pugovitzin,  who  was  just 
lighting  a  new  cigar,  and,  having  no  knife  handy,  care- 
fully bit  off  the  pointed  end.  At  last  the  white  blouses 
reached  the  sandy  ridge  and  could  see  everything.  All 
the  hills  before  them  were  dotted  with  horsemen; 
they  were  uniformly  dressed  in  dark-red  cloaks  and 
high  black  caps.  Now  they  would  gather  in  groups, 
and  then  again  deploy  in  skirmish-line,  spurring  their 
long-legged  horses,  covered  with  blankets.  There  a 
larger  group  gathered,  and  galloped  along,  with  two 
triangular  ensigns  fluttering  above  their  heads.  These 
horsemen  came  forward  at  a  full  run,  then,  after  vio- 
lently pulling  up  their  horses,  retreated  again  faster 


THE    RESCUE.  113 

than  they  had  come.  Whenever  a  horseman  halted,  a 
little  white  cloud  of  smoke  puffed  up,  and  the  sharp 
report  of  a  gun  could  be  heard.  Here  and  there  the 
little  white  clouds  are  constantly  puffing  up,  rising  in 
the  wind  and  forming  into  long  strips  of  mist,  which 
ranged  themselves  along  the  sandy  ridges,  gradually 
rising  higher  and  higher. 

The  natives  all  seemed  to  swarm  in  one  direction; 
they  were  fighting  somebody  there,  but  who  it  was 
could  not  be  seen.  Beyond  those  hills  their  unseen 
enemy  must  be  hidden. 

"  Golovin  is  there  with  his  platoon,"  said  the  Cossack 
officer.  "  They  are  pressing  him  hard." 

"  We  must  drive  them  away  from  there  at  once!  " 

"It's  dangerous — there  is  such  a  crowd  of  them. 
However,  let  us  wait  for  the  infantry.  Those  fellows 
scatter  so  much,  we  can't  hit  anybody." 

"  Never  fear  —  just  wait  a  moment." 

The  Cossacks  were  thus  talking  and  consulting,  with- 
out any  definite  result,  when  the  company  came;  then 
they  picked  up  courage  and  got  into  their  saddles 
again.  The  leader  of  the  squadron  accosted  Pugovitzin : 

"  Good-day,  Major!  "  bringing  all  five  fingers  to  the 
visor  of  his  cap,  and  bowing  not  ungracefully  from  his 
saddle.  "  The  enemy  is  in  very  formidable  numbers  — 
some  in  sight  and  others  still  hidden.  In  view  of  this 
inequality  of  forces,  caution  will  have  to  be  employed 
in  our  movements;  and  furthermore  I  would  suggest  — 

"  Bugler,  sound  the  attack!  "  said  Pugovitzin,  without 
paying  any  attention  to  the  Cossack  officer's  flow  of 
fine  words. 

The  bugler  put  the  instrument  to  his  mouth,  but  no 
sound  issued;  it  was  choked  up  with  sand.  He  blew 
into  the  other  end,  coughed,  and  finally  succeeded  in 


114  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF 

sounding  the  charge,  which  was  repeated  by  the  drums. 
The  attack  began. 

A  few  skirmishers,  in  pairs,  ran  ahead.  It  was  a 
strange  sight,  this  handful  of  infantry  advancing  so 
confidently  against  an  enemy  exceeding  them  tenfold 
in  strength.  They  formed  into  a  small  column  at  the 
sound  of  some  indistinct  word  of  command,  and 
encouraged  by  two  drums  and  the  cracked  bugle,  the 
white  blouses  went  forward. 

"Fire!"  said  Pugoyitzin  without  removing  his  cigar. 
Some  of  the  soldiers  in  line  stepped  forward,  one  even 
sat  down  in  the  sand;  they  took  aim,  and  with  a  sharp 
report  the  first  shot  went  forth  from  the  "  Berdankas  " 
(Berdan  rifles);  a  second  followed.  The  bullets  were 
whistling  dismally  through  the  air. 

The  squadron  also  moved,  advancing  at  a  walk,  with- 
out getting  ahead  of  the  infantry  line. 

"  At  the  word  of  command  from  me,  start  off  at  a 
gallop,  but  keep  a  sharp  lookout,"  exclaimed  the  Cos- 
sack commander,  prancing  showily  in  front  of  his  line. 
"  If  the  command  is  '  Halt! '  you  will  at  once  fall  back 
upon  our  infantry  support." 

"  He's  in  a  sweat,  brother,"  an  infantryman  whispered 
to  his  neighbor.  "  He  should  wring  out  his  shirt. 
What  is  the  use  of  giving  instructions  for  running 
away?  " 

The  small  detachment  advanced  farther  and  far- 
ther, without  stopping,  unswervingly  and  irresistibly, 
making  straight  for  the  center  of  the  enemy  now  rally- 
ing along  the  ridges;  straight  to  where  their  masses 
were  densest,  and  where  the  two  triangular  ensigns 
were  waving.  Behind  this  center  lay  the  hills  sur- 
rounded by  the  Turkomans,  and  upon  which  thus  far 
their  principal  efforts  had  been  directed. 


THE    RESCUE.  115 

From  behind  these  hills  a  small  number  of  men  were 
now  making  their  appearance;  they  were  leading  their 
horses  by  the  bridles  —  three  and  four  to  a  man;  the 
others  surrounded  the  horse-keepers  in  an  open  skirmish 
line,  keeping  up  a  constant  fire  from  their  small  car- 
bines. The  lame  Cossack  had  heard  the  firing  of  his 
rescuers,  and  had  resolved  to  lead  forth  his  platoon  from 
its  defensive  position. 

At  the  sound  of  the  first  shots  from  the  infantry  the 
Turkomans  began  to  waver  and  to  contract  their  wide 
circle.  Only  occasionally  their  small  bullets  came 
whistling  along,  striking  the  sand  with  a  dull  splash 
not  far  from  the  column.  A  few  wounded  horses  lay 
struggling  here  and  there,  some  of  them  striving  to  get 
upon  their  legs,  staggering  along  a  few  steps,  and  fall- 
ing again;  a  few  bodies  of  men,  some  flat  on  their  backs, 
some  drawn  up  as  in  pain,  were  dyeing  red  the  yellow 
sand  beneath  them.  Some  horsemen  galloped  up  to 
these  bodies,  and  bending  from  their  saddles  without 
alighting,  they  snatched  them  up,  throwing  them  on 
the  horses'  croups,  and  then  followed  at  a  run  their 
already  retreating  companions.  Riderless  horses,  with 
saddles  and  trappings  askew,  were  scattered  over  the 
sand-hills,  neighing  loudly.  A  few  men  were  sent  in 
pursuit  of  them,  to  catch  them  by  the  bridle,  or  simply 
drive  them  after  the  others. 

"Ah!  if  one  might  catch  a  couple  of  pairs  of  these 
racers!  "  sighed  one  of  the  Cossacks.  They  looked  after 
them  enviously,  but  did  not  venture  to  break  from  their 
line  for  the  purpose.  Where  would  the  Cossack  be 
with  his  shaggy  little  gelding,  if  he  were  to  match 
horse  against  horse  with  the  Turkomans  on  their  fiery, 
marvelously  trained  racers  that  can  jump  a  fourteen- 
foot  ditch  or  a  wall  the  height  of  a  man  —  jump  them  as 

8 


116  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

easily  as  if  these  formidable  obstacles  did  not  exist  at 
all.  Fighting  in  organized  bodies  they  were  a  match 
for  them,  but  singly  the  Cossacks  stood  no  chance,  and 
they  were  fully  justified  in  being  careful. 

"  They  worried  you  somewhat!  "  exclaimed  Pugovitzin 
on  meeting  Golovin,  extending  his  hand  to  him. 

"Yes,  brother;  thanks  —  you  have  rescued  me,"  said 
the  Cossack.  "  It  looked  squally  for  a  time;  our  car- 
tridges were  giving  out  —  we  thought  the  end  was 
near." 

"  Did  you  lose  many? " 

"  Six,  and  ten  horses;  some  killed,  and  some  ran  off.  I 
caught  up  with  that  cursed  fellow.  I  had  him  almost 
in  my  hands.  I  could  have  rescued  Petka.  Ah!  fate! 
fate!"  And  Golovin  turned  aside  and  wiped  his  eyes 
with  the  sleeve  of  his  blouse. 

"  I  had  already  written  hopefully,"  he  continued;  "  and 
now  —  well,  how  is  she? " 

"Come  back  and  you  will  see!"  said  Pugovitzin, 
gruffly. 

"In  what  order  will  the  return  march  be  made? 
Have  you  any  orders  to  give  on  that  subject,  Major? " 

"  You  must  furnish  horses  to  carry  the  dead  and  the 
wounded.  What  orders  should  there  be?"  the  major 
added,  angrily,  and  then  gave  his  command: 

"With  God,  boys!" 

The  small  detachment  moved  off  in  the  direction  of 
the  camp.  The  Turkomans  did  not  pursue.  They  saw 
the  white  blouses;  they  knew  them  of  old,  and  con- 
cluded to  salute  them  only  from  a  distance,  sending  a 
few  random  bullets  into  the  air. 


WAITING.  11? 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

WAITING. 

No  sooner  had  Golovin's  brief  note  been  received  in 
the  camp  than  it  was  shown  to  Natalia. 

"  He's  found  —  saved!  "  she  exclaimed,  breathing  with 
difficulty.  "  Had  they  carried  him  away?  Tell  me  — 
why  don't  you  speak?  "  She  was  seized  by  a  nervous 
tremor,  her  cheeks  reddened,  her  eyes  shone  with  a 
vivid  brilliancy;  apparently  beside  herself,  she  rushed 
for  the  entrance  of  the  tent. 

The  doctor  intercepted  her.  "  Where  are  you  going, 
Natalia  Martinovna?  Wait,  matushka;  stop!  What  — 

"  I  am  going  myself.  My  horse  —  for  the  love  of  God, 
the  horse!  Saddle  him,  Dementy  —  quick,  quick!" 
Natalia  rushed  about  in  the  tent  as  if  searching  for 
something.  Her  reason  seemed  to  have  left  her,  and 
she  was  mechanically  repeating,  "The  horse  —  oh, 
quick!  quick!  "  The  tone  of  her  voice  grew  lower  and 
lower  —  at  last  it  was  only  a  faint  whisper;  she  stag- 
gered—  the  doctor  supported  her  falling  form  and  led 
her  to  the  bed. 

Once  more  Natalia  Martinovna  had  sunk  into  insen- 
sibility. The  terrible  shock  to  her  nerves  caused  by 
the  letter  had  provoked  this  violent  outbreak;  after  the 
excitement  followed  a  complete  collapse.  When  she 
opened  her  eyes  again,  gazing  stupidly  about,  the  doctor 
began  to  ply  her  with  a  flow  of  small  talk  which  he 
intended  to  be  soothing. 

"  That  was  very  good!  "  he  said,  patting  her  hand. 
"  You  wanted  to  go  yourself,  of  course;  you  ordered 


118  THE    TWO-I. EGGED    WOLF. 

Dementy  to  saddle  tip,  but  your  poor  Dementy  — "  The 
doctor  did  not  go  on;  it  struck  him  that  to  tell  her  at 
that  moment  of  the  fate  of  the  poor  old  man  would  be 
altogether  out  of  place. 

"  Golovin  has  only  just  got  onto  the  trail,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  Thanks  be  to  God,  he  is  chasing  them  now  — 
and  all  will  be  well.  At  night  they  will  return  and 
bring  your  Petka.  How  we  shall  watch  you  after  this, 
truly!  There'll  be  an  officer's  guard  before  your  tent; 
it  will  be  completely  surrounded.  But  you  must  be 
quiet  now,  our  little  dove  —  lie  still.  I'll  moisten 
your  head  with  vinegar  again  —  that  does  you  good. 
That's  it!  Karpof,  have  you  got  ready  what  I  told 
you  to  prepare?  Bring  it  in,  if  it's  ready." 

"  This  minute,  your  honor;  it  will  be  ready  in  a 
second,"  answered,  from  behind  the  tent,  Karpof,  the 
soldier  who  had  sprained  himself  at  the  wells,  and  who 
had  been  detailed  in  old  Dementy's  place. 

"  You  must  drink  a  cup  of  hot  tea  with  some  red 
wine  in  it.  Here,  I'll  put  it  to  your  lips.  That  is  well, 
that's  excellent!  But  now,  what's  this  —  the  eyes  wet 
again?  It's  a  shame!  Wait,  I'll  dry  them."  The  doctor 
drew  from  his  pocket  a  dirty,  frayed  handkerchief, 
looked  at  it,  and  hid  it  again  in  his  pocket.  That 
wouldn't  do;  then  he  grasped  the  skirt  of  his  blouse  — 
that  was  still  worse.  "  Ah!  "  he  groaned,  looking  around 
despairingly  until  he  found  a  towel  "  comparatively  " 
clean,  and  gently  passed  a  corner  of  it  over  the  woman's 
eyes,  going  on  with  his  chattering:  "The  whole  camp 
is  so  sorry  for  you!  The  soldiers  are  quite  melancholy, 
and  some  of  them  quite  furious.  Nobody  thinks  of 
anything  but  your  misfortune.  The  general  has  sent 
six  times  to  inquire,  and  came  twice  himself.  When  I 
passed  Gorlastoi's  tent  I  saw  they  were  not  playing 


WAITING.  119 

cards —  what  a  convincing'  sign  of  sympathy!  Quietly, 
now,  my  boy,  quietly!  "  the  doctor  continued  in  a 
whisper  to  Karpof,  who  came  in  a  with  a  tray  containing 
a  small  copper  teakettle  and  a  glass  with  silver  holder. 
"'Sh!  don't  wake  her,  God  bless  her!  Go,  boy,  and 
tell  them  all  around  to  keep  perfectly  quiet  —  tell  them 
she  has  fallen  asleep." 

The  doctor  rose  heavily  from  the  bed,  walked  on  his 
tiptoes  to  the  corner  of  the  tent,  let  himself  down  cau- 
tiously upon  a  folding-chair,  threw  a  glance  at  his 
patient,  and  with  the  greatest  caution,  in  order  to  avoid 
all  rustling  of  the  paper,  he  drew  from  his  pocket  and 
unfolded  a  much-used,  crumpled  copy  of  the  "  Russian 
Invalid,"  issued  only  seven  months  ago. 

The  whole  camp  was  waiting  with  the  greatest  im- 
patience for  the  return  of  Golovin  with  his  platoon. 
Every  sand-hill  the  top  of  which  afforded  a  wider  view 
was  crowded  with  people  —  on  foot  and  mounted  — 
and  all  kept  their  eyes  fixed  in  the  direction  from 
which  the  Cossacks  must  first  come  within  the  scope 
of  vision. 

The  sun  was  mercilessly  pouring  down  its  hottest 
rays,  but  no  attention  was  paid  to  that  —  no  one  thought 
of  seeking  the  shade  of  the  tents.  On  the  small  bas- 
tions which  had  been  completed,  on  the  parapets  of  the 
new  fortification  —  everywhere  the  white  blouses  of 
the  soldiers  and  tunics  of  the  officers  could  be  seen,  and 
from  minute  to  minute  new  watchers  joined  the  various 
groups. 

"  Well,  how  is  it? "  they  asked,  blinking  their  eyes 
and  shading  them  from  the  sun  with  their  hands,  while 
glancing  at  the  undulating  horizon.  "  Do  you  see 
nothing? " 

"  There's  nothing  to  be  seen." 


120  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  They  must  have  gone  far — " 

"  Will  they  get  him,  or  not?  " 

"  Oh,  heavenly  Queen!  wouldn't  it — " 

"  If  they  bring  him  —  there  would  be  such  a  thanks- 
giving service! " 

"  But  how  is  she  herself?     Have  you  seen  her,  boys?" 

"  Look,  look!  That  is  dust  —  it  is  moving;  don't  you 
see? " 

"  Captain,  lend  me  your  field-glass  for  a  minute  —  I 
just  want  one  glance,  for  just  one  second!  " 

"  They  are  coming!  " 

"  No  —  it's  nothing.  The  wind  is  stirring  up  the  sand. 
See  —  it  has  subsided  again,  and  there  is  nothing  in 
sight! " 

"  They'll  not  turn  back  before  night  —  that  is  sure." 

Thus  desultory  conversation  went  on  upon  the  sand- 
hills of  Khala-at,  and  on  the  parapets  of  the  newly 
erected  fort  of  St.  George.  The  whole  day  was  con- 
sumed in  this  wearisome,  impatient  expectation.  The 
sun  was  again  preparing  to  take  its  final  plunge  beyond 
the  western  horizon  when  the  wind  began  to  blow,  and 
the  distance  became  obscured  with  clouds  of  dust.  It 
was  growing  dark,  and  still  Golovin,  with  his  platoon, 
had  not  returned.  From  Pugovitzin,  also,  there  had 
been  no  news. 

"  They  must  have  gone  far,  indeed!  "  was  the  general 
opinion  in  the  camp.  Everybody  was  getting  uneasy. 
Could  anything  serious  have  happened  to  them? 

Fires  began  to  glimmer  here  and  there,  when  the 
sound  of  snorting  horses  was  borne  faintly  upon  the 
wind  —  evoking  an  answer  from  the  picket-ropes  in 
camp.  "  Ours  "  were  coming  at  last.  But  no  singing 
could  be  heard.  It  was  not  customary  with  the  Tur- 
kestan battalions  to  return  from  an  expedition  without 


THE  NEW  YORK  HERALD  CORRESPONDENT.     121 

song  and  beating  of  drums  —  if  they  had  been  success- 
ful. 

"  It's  evident  that  they  have  failed  —  they're  not  up 
to  singing."  That  was  the  opinion  formed  by  the 
camp.  All  became  sad,  voices  were  lowered,  the 
crowds  stood  waiting,  looking  out  into  the  darkness. 

Yonder,  between  the  sand-hills,  somber  masses  were 
moving  slowly;  some  low  —  the  infantry;  and  the 
others  looming  up  higher — the  cavalry.  Smaller 
particles  were  separating  from  the  mass  and  approach- 
ing more  rapidly.  The  challenge  of  the  outer  pickets 
was  heard,  and  all  rushed  from  the  camp  to  meet  the 
returning  column. 

First  came  Major  Pugovitzin  with  his  company,  then 
came  the  Cossacks  who  had  accompanied  him,  and  last 
came  Golovin  with  his  platoon,  and  he  proceeded 
directly  to  the  general's  headquarters. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  NEW  YORK  HERALD  CORRESPONDENT. 

THE  round  bastions  of  the  new  fort  loomed  up  lonely, 
melancholy,  and  uninviting.  Surrounded  with  dunes  of 
deadly  drifting  sand,  Khala-at  resembled  some  vast 
ruined  monument  or  burial-place. 

The  handful  of  people  left  in  the  fort  were  looking 
dejectedly,  from  the  top  of  the  ramparts,  into  the 
desert  —  into  the  endless  distance,  where  the  haze 
now  hid  the  last  stragglers  in  the  rear  of  the  advancing 
column. 

All  was  sad  and  quiet  within  the  fortification;  the 


122  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

faces  of  all  were  clouded  —  frowning.  The  greatest 
disgust,  burning  anger,  and  discontent  with  a  blind 
fate  were  expressed  in  the  dark  sunburned  faces  of 
these  men  who  thus  far  had  not  been  subjected  to  any 
special  physical  hardship;  but  they  had  suffered  the 
greatest  moral  hardship,  in  their  eyes,  by  being  com- 
pelled to  "remain  "  while  the  others  "  went  on." 

And  where  had  the  others  gone  ?  It  was  possible 
that  all  those  who  had  marched  would  find  their  graves 
in  the  sandy  deserts  stretching  away  to  the  southwest, 
in  that  terrible  region  to  which  that  ominous  name  of 
"  Man's  Perdition  "  had  been  given;  it  was  possible  that 
those  graves  would  be  preceded  by  long  days  and 
weeks  of  cruel  privation  and  suffering  —  all  that  was 
possible.  Nevertheless,  those  who  departed  were 
happy,  looking  ahead  full  of  confidence,  brimming  over 
with  life,  energy  sparkling  in  their  eyes.  Those  who 
remained  looked  upon  themselves  as  already  buried 
alive. 

The  traces  of  the  vast  camp,  which  the  sand  had  not 
yet  obliterated,  only  added  to  the  general  picture  of 
loneliness. 

There  were  the  well-beaten  squares  where  the  tents 
had  stood;  there  on  that  long  streak,  where  the  rem- 
nants of  horse-feed  and  droppings  are  scattered  about, 
were  the  picket-ropes  of  the  cavalry;  there  were  the 
wheel-tracks  of  the  cannon.  In  the  hollows  the  soil  was 
blackened  with  cinders  and  smoke-begrimed  fragments 
of  broken-down  ovens  upon  which  the  soldieT's'  unin- 
viting food  had  been  cooked.  Shreds  and  pieces  of  felt 
and  straw  mats,  ends  of  rope,  pieces  of  paper,  and 
colored  rags  strewed  the  sand.  Parts  of  broken  dishes 
shone  in  the  sunlight  like  diamonds.  Two  or  three 
ragged  natives  roamed  about  over  the  vast  space  like 


THE  NEW  YORK  HERALD  CORRESPONDENT.     123 

jackals,  bending  over  and  picking  up  what  seemed  still 
useful  to  them,  glancing  once  in  awhile  furtively  at 
the  fort  like  thieves,  and  then  resuming  their  search. 

About  twenty  camels,  left  behind  on  account  of  their 
feebleness,  could  be  seen  on  the  sand-hills,  seeking  in 
vain  for  food,  be  it  only  a  few  solitary  dry  blades  of 
grass.  All  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  fort  has  long 
since  been  browsed  by  their  predecessors  —  nothing 
more  can  be  found.  To  go  farther  afield  is  dangerous. 
Packs  of  wolves,  equally  hungry  and  with  scent  sharp- 
ened by  fasting,  are  roving  there,  attracted  by  the  odors 
arising  from  carcasses  of  camels  and  horses  lying  about 
in  the  sand.  Not  a  few  of  the  latter  fell  victims  to 
hunger  and  over-exertion,  and  now  inclosed  the  fort  at 
Khala-at  with  a  circle  of  fetid,  tainted  air. 

This  was  the  third  day  since  the  white  blouses  went 
away,  the  third  day  since  the  pillars  of  dust  long  visi- 
ble along  the  horizon  had  subsided.  There  was  no 
news  from  any  direction,  only  isolation  and  discontent. 
The  days  were  provokingly  long ;  it  seemed  as  if  a 
whole  week  could  be  made  of  one  of  them. 

This  day  was  over  at  last.  Darkness  settled  down 
upon  the  dismal  surroundings  ;  fires  were  lighted  in  the 
fort.  Sleep  would  be  welcome  now,  to  pass  away  the 
slowly  creeping  time  unconsciously,  but  there  is  no 
sleep.  Gloom  weighs  upon  every  heart  and  drives 
away  refreshing  slumber.  It  is  the  same  as  in  day- 
light—  on  the  ramparts  still  linger  the  silent,  restless 
shadows. 

There  was  no  meat — the  last  was  issued  long  ago. 
Of  hard  bread  there  was  still  enough,  but  it  began  to 
look  less  and  less  appetizing.  But  all  this  would  be 
considered  no  great  trouble,  or  something  to  laugh  at, 
if  only  the  longed-for  relief  force  would  hurry  up  —  if 


124  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

they  could  only  hear  the  gloriously  welcome  order  to 
follow  up  the  expedition. 

"  Isn't  it  dark  ? "  said  one  of  the  sentries,  as  he  came 
face  to  face  with  his  neighbor  on  the  adjoining  beat,  at 
the  corner  where  the  cannon  was  planted. 

"  Very  dark  !  "  the  other  assented.  Each  turned  his 
back  to  the  other,  and  again  paced  along  the  ramparts. 
When  they  met  again  the  first  one  remarked,  "  Listen! 
brother;  do  you  hear  nothing  ? " 

"  Let's  look,"  said  the  other.  They  did  not  separate 
again,  but  stood  still  in  silence,  listening  intently.  One 
of  them  sat  down  in  order  to  bring  the  nearest  sand- 
hills into  relief  against  the  sky. 

"  Hoof-beats  on  the  sand,"  said  one. 

"Three  horses  running  —  they  are  coming  this  way. 
What  can  it  be,  coming  from  that  side?" 

"  Some  roving  band  — 

"  No  !  They  are  heading  straight  for  the  fort.  It 
must  be  the  mail,  or  some  courier." 

" Look  !  " 

Not  far  away  three  dark  shadows  could  be  distin- 
guished; two  looming  up  high,  the  third  lower.  The 
first  were  horsemen,  the  other  a  led-animal  loaded  with 
something.  The  muzzles  of  carbines  stood  out  from 
the  shoulders  of  the  riders.  It  was  impossible  to  dis- 
tinguish their  costumes  in  the  darkness. 

"Who  goes  there?"  came  the  loud  challenge  from  the 
top  of  the  corner  bastion.  "  Who  goes  there? "  was 
repeated  from  the  parapet,  upon  which,  in  addition  to 
the  sentries,  a  crowd  of  curious  spectators  appeared, 
brought  to  their  feet  by  the  noise  of  the  challenge. 

The  riders  halted  at  a  distance  of  about  twenty 
paces.  One  of  them  dismounted;  the  other  remained 
in  the  saddle. 


THE  NEW  YORK  HERALD  CORRESPONDENT.      125 

"We  your  men  —  ours  —  good  men.  Hold  on;  don't 
shoot,  please!  "  hurriedly  shouted  the  one  who  had  dis- 
mounted. 

"  Nous  sonunes  vos  amis!  "  came  in  a  loud,  determined 
voice  from  the  rider  on  the  horse.  "  Eh  bien!  Ou  est 
monsieur  Ic  clicf  du  camp  ?  Sharip  !"  —  he  turned  to  his 
companion,  now  speaking  Russian  —  "fire,  tea  —  the 
bottle  and  the  blankets!  "  Having  given  these  orders, 
the  horseman  deliberately  dismounted,  stretched  his 
legs,  and  sat  down  on  the  sand.  With  slow,  precise,  and 
measured  movements  he  extracted  a  cigar,  and  with  a 
knife  taken  from  a  pocket-case  cut  off  the  end,  lighted  a 
match  that  flamed  up  in  the  darkness,  and  for  a  moment 
illuminated  the  end  of  a  nose,  a  reddish  mustache,  and 
a  closely  cropped,  neatly  trimmed  beard,  and  then 
began  to  smoke,  sending  forth  into  the  nocturnal  air 
the  aromatic  perfume  of  a  costly  Havana. 

The  soldiers  wondered,  "  What  funny  creature  have 
we  here  ?  What  was  he  jabbering  about?  It  must  have 
been  German." 

"  Didn't  you  understand,  Vaska?  " 

"To  the  devil  with  him!"  said  Vaska,  shaking  his 
head.  "  Such  balderdash  that  nobody  can  understand! 
However,  boys,  this  must  be  reported  to  the  colonel, 
all  the  same." 

But  there  was  no  necessity  for  a  report.  Several 
officers  had  already  emerged  from  the  fort,  and  now 
gathered  around  the  new  arrivals. 

"  What  is  going  on  there? "  exclaimed  the  colonel's 
voice;  and  the  soldiers  respectfully  made  way  for  him. 

A  half-hour  later  the  new-comer  was  seated  upon  a 
carpet  in  one  of  the  officers'  tents,  a  little  roomier  than 
the  others.  The  bright  blaze  of  a  camp-fire  fell  full 
upon  him  as  he  sat  there  with  a  glass  in  his  hand,  tell- 


126  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

ing  his  adventures,  laughing  and  joking  merrily  with 
the  officers  gathered  around  him.  The  conversation 
was  carried  on  in  French  and  German;  of  Russian  he 
knew  only  such  words  as  he  used  in  giving  orders  to 
his  servant  —  a  native  Kirghiz  from  Perovsk.  In  addi- 
tion to  these  words  he  knew  "  How  many  versts? " 
"  Eat,"  and  "  Wake  early,"  and  only  very  lately  his  com- 
mand of  the  Russian  language  had  been  strengthened 
by  the  acquisition  of  the  sentence,  "Oh,  it's  hot!" 
Beyond  these  phrases  he  declined  to  extend  his  studies. 

He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  light  gray,  and  wore  a 
hat  of  American  pattern,  with  a  wide  neck-shield;  high, 
thick-soled  top-boots,  fastened  with  straps  above  the 
knees,  completed  his  costume.  Over  one  shoulder  hung 
a  short  carbine  (said  to  shoot  about  forty  times  per 
minute);  a  pair  of  revolvers  showed  from  his  belt,  and 
over  the  other  shoulder  he  carried  a  case  with  field- 
glasses  and  a  small  note-book,  also  with  case  and  strap. 

His  low,  broad-shouldered  form  bespake  uncommon 
agility,  endurance,  and  strength;  his  gray  eyes  looked 
about  him  calmly  and  pleasantly;  the  cut  of  his  mus- 
tache and  beard  proclaimed  him  a  "real  Yankee." 

In  answer  to  a  question  from  the  colonel  command- 
ing the  fort  at  Khala-at,  he  introduced  himself  as  "  Mr. 
Henry  Blake,  correspondent  of  the  New  York  Herald." 
He  related  how  he  alone,  with  his  Kirghiz  servant,  had 
traversed  more  than  a  thousand  miles  of  the  steppe, 
guided  only  by  his  map  and  compass,  reposing  but  little 
confidence  in  the  local  knowledge  of  his  guide;  how  he 
had  finally  succeeded  in  reaching  Khala-at,  hoping  to 
find  there  the  whole  Russian  expedition  and  its  com- 
mander. He  was  very  sorry  indeed  that  the  column 
had  already  set  out  upon  its  march;  but  it  did  not 
matter — he  felt  sure  of  overtaking  them  before  long.  In 


THE  NEW  YORK  HERALD  CORRESPONDENT.     127 

the  morning  at  daylight  he  would  set  out  in  pursuit  by 
the  same  means  which  had  carried  him  thus  far. 

"Well,  no,  brother,"  said  the  colonel,  in  Russian,  but 
under  his  breath;  "we  will  not  let  you  go  from  here 
all  by  yourself.  Who  knows  him,  and  who  wants  to  be 
held  responsible  for  such  a  goose?" 

"  To  your  health!  "  said  Mr.  Henry  Blake,  smiling  as  if 
in  answer  to  the  colonel's  suppressed  remark,  and,  with 
a  polite  bow,  swallowed  a  dram  of  rum  from  his  silver 
traveling-cup. 

The  decision  of  the  commanding  officer  that  the  cor- 
respondent must  be  detained  at  the  fort  until  the  com- 
mander of  the  expedition  could  be  communicated  with, 
and  an  answer  received  with  instructions,  was  made 
known  to  the  traveler,  with  many  conciliatory  phrases 
to  sweeten  the  bitter  pill;  and  .he  was  asked  to  accept 
the  hospitality  of  the  fort,  where  everything  that  might 
add  to  his  comfort  would  be  at  his  service. 

Mr.  Henry  Blake  seemed  slightly  disconcerted  when 
first  learning  this  decision,  and  his  brows  contracted 
into  a  frown,  but  he  soon  brightened  up  and  regained 
his  former  joyousness,  continuing  to  relate  episodes 
from  his  trying  and  adventurous  journeys. 

It  was  time  to  go  to  bed.  The  American  firmly 
declined  the  offer  of  a  tent  and  folding-bed,  saying 
that  he  had  become  accustomed  to  his  blanket.  After 
talking  to  his  native  servant,  he  stretched  himself  upon 
the  sand,  smoked  a  final  cigar,  made  entries  in  his  note- 
book, and  was  soon  soundly  asleep,  breaking  the  still- 
ness of  the  night  with  a  healthy,  resounding  snore. 

In  the  morning  there  was  no  correspondent  of  the 
New  York  Herald  in  the  fort.  He  had  departed  an 
hour  before  dawn  in  the  direction  of  the  advancing 
expedition.  For  the  commander  of  the  fort  he  left  a 


128  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

brief  but  very  cordial  note,  saying  that  he  wished  to 
express  his  thanks  for  the  attention  and  hospitality 
shown  him  at  the  fort,  and  hoping  to  see  his  Khala-at 
friends  again  before  long;  if  not  sooner,  then  surely  at 
Khiva. 

"  He  is  the  devil !  "  declared  the  colonel,  after  reading 
the  note. 

"Smart!  "  remarked  one  of  the  officers. 

"  Free  as  a  bird,  the  lucky  fellow!  "  enviously  sighed 
another. 

"  If  they  catch  him  on  the  road  they  will  impale  him, 
or  do  something  worse  with  him!  "  gloomily  prophesied 
a  third.  But  the  colonel  decided  that  there  could  be 
nothing  worse  than  to  be  impaled.  To  this  they  all 
consented.  They  conversed  wearily  for  a  little  while 
longer,  and  then  surrendered  themselves  to  their  cus- 
tomary occupation  —  to  fret,  to  chafe,  to  gaze  into  the 
distance,  and  to  wait  for  the  relieving-force. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE    WHITE    BLOUSES. 

FOR  many  days  now  the  white  blouses  have  been 
marching  through  the  drifting  sands.  Ahead  goes  the 
advance-guard,  mostly  Cossacks,  and  a  few  infantry- 
men. They  are  marching  briskly,  with  no  perceptible 
signs  of  weariness,  but  closer  observation  will  reveal 
the  haggard  faces,  the  emaciated  horses,  through  whose 
sides  the  ribs  are  so  plainly  visible  —  the  effect  of  insuf- 
ficiency of  both  food  and  water.  Behind  the  advance- 


THE    WHITE    BLOUSES.  129 

guard  the  main  body  of  the  column  drags  itself  along. 
The  dust  hangs  over  it  in  clouds.  It  is  a  silent  march 
—  one  hears  no  tramp  of  steed  or  step  of  man,  nor 
clatter  of  wheels,  as  the  cannon  are  dragged  along. 
The  fine,  friable  sand  absorbs  all  sounds,  and  only  the 
heavy  breathing  and  the  tired  snort  of  weary  horses  are 
heard  in  this  moving  mass  of  dust. 

The  soldier,  small  of  stature,  but  hard  as  flint, 
marches  firmly,  though  it  is  soft  underfoot;  with  his 
back  a  little  bent,  for  upon  this  back  he  carries  his 
knapsack  —  containing  his  baggage,  bread  for  three 
days,  spare  boots,  an  overcoat  rolled  tightly,  the  whole 
weighing  between  fifty  and  sixty  pounds  —  and  in  addi- 
tion he  has  two  cartridge-boxes  at  his  belt,  the  Berdan 
rifle  in  his  hands,  a  shelter-tent,  and  a  tin  canteen  covered 
with  felt  and  filled  with  water.  But  it  is  nothing! 
Their  backs  have  long  since  grown  as  accustomed  to 
such  a  burden  as  the  camel  to  its  pack.  How  many 
thousand  versts  have  not  the  white  blouses  measured 
under  this  load!  They  never  count  the  versts — how 
many  they  have  covered  or  how  many  are  still  before 
them. 

At  night  he  gets  no  sleep — it's  all  right!  There  is 
very  little  to  eat  —  that's  nothing!  There  is  no  water 
—  that's  nasty;  but,  well,  one  gets  over  it! 

When  the  soldier's  strength  gives  out  he  dies  without 
a  murmur.  The  others  bury  him,  and  go  on.  From 
their  mouths  comes  not  a  single  reproach;  not  a  single 
regret,  not  a  single  complaint  is  heard. 

With  the  Cossack  it  is  quite  a  different  affair.  He  is 
always  fretting  for  his  family,  his  fireside,  or  his  home 
station.  Say  to  a  Cossack,  "Would  you  rather  go  home 
than  go  on  this  march?  Stay  behind,  brother;  go  home!  " 
and  the  Cossack  will  shine  all  over  with  gladness;  a 


130  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOl.F. 

broad  smile  will  spread  all  over  his  face.  He  will  hurry 
his  preparations  as  if  everything  was  burning  under 
his  fingers. 

Say  the  same  to  a  white  blouse;  tell  him,  "You'll  be 
left  behind,"  and  the  poor  fellow  will  look  as  miserable 
as  if  cold  water  had  been  thrown  over  him.  He  will 
not  eat  nor  drink,  but  only  fret  and  look  with  burning 
envy  upon  the  fortunate  ones  who  are  preparing  for  a 
long  march. 

Such  are  our  white  blouses. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TRACKS. 

A  SMALL  band  of  rovers  of  the  steppe,  consisting  of 
about  twenty  horses  and  ten  riders,  so  that  each  person 
had  two  animals,  had  found  its  way  to  a  position  be- 
tween the  fort  at  Khala-at  and  the  Russian  column, 
and  was  now  following  in  its  tracks. 

These  were  no  dangerous  antagonists;  they  were 
simply  cowardly  wolves,  ready  to  swerve  from  their 
road  at  the  least  sign  of  danger  to  themselves. 

They  were  following  the  tracks,  reckoning  that  some 
kind  of  booty  must  certainly  fall  to  their  share.  A 
camel  may  be  left  behind  or  fall  from  exhaustion,  and 
a  bale  may  be  thrown  away,  or  something  may  be 
lost  —  or,  better  still,  a  straggling  man  may  lose  his 
way  and  afford  them  a  chance  to  throw  the  noose  of  their 
long  ropes  over  his  head. 

The  band  moved  along  at  a  trot,  in  open  order;  they 


TRACKS.  131 

did  not  hurry  much,  not  wishing  to  overtake  the 
column,  nor  did  they  linger,  for  fear  of  being  caught  up 
with  by  somebody  else. 

They  looked  sharply  ahead  and  to  either  side,  but 
most  frequently  to  the  rear.  They  saw  before  them 
the  trail  of  the  marching  column,  covering  a  wide 
track.  There  had  been  no  desert-winds  to  cover  this 
terrible  trail  with  sand,  and  an  appalling  picture  of 
human  suffering  and  endiirance  thus  unrolled  itself 
before  the  eyes  of  these  robbers. 

In  dark,  putrescent  heaps  the  carcasses  of  fallen 
camels  dotted  the  reddish  sand.  They  came  upon 
horses  barely  able  to  keep  upon  their  legs,  but  stand- 
ing motionless,  ready  from  minute  to  minute  to  sink 
down  into  the  burning  sand  never  to  rise  again.  The 
eyes  of  these  unfortunate  animals  had  already  lost 
their  living  luster;  they  gazed  dumbly  into  the  distance. 
They  never  moved  their  heads  nor  pricked  up  their 
ears  when  the  robbers  rode  up  to  them  in  the  hope  of 
profiting  by  something  that  was  left  upon  them.  Fre- 
quently the  first  touch  of  the  robber  would  cause  the 
animal  to  sink  to  the  earth. 

The  plunderers  also  found  traces  of  what  must  have 
been  gigantic  fires.  They  could  see  large  black  patches 
from  afar,  and  the  wind  drove  before  it  ashes  and 
charred  particles.  It  was  evident  that  these  fires  were 
never  built  for  warming  the  men  or  cooking  their  food. 
Sometimes  the  material  had  not  been  entirely  con- 
sumed, and  then  they  saw  shreds  of  burned  blankets, 
ends  of  rope,  shapeless,  half-melted  pieces  of  iron. 
The  white  blouses  burned,  without  exception,  all  that 
the  surviving  camels  could  not  carry  —  all  that  ought 
to  have  been  thrown  away.  They  were  told  that  every 
little  thing,  every  trifle  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 

9 


132  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

enemy  would  be  considered  a  trophy,  and  the  white 
blouses  never  leave  trophies  to  the  enemy. 

"Ah!  the  devils,  the  dogs!"  exclaimed  one  of  the 
robbers.  "  They  have  burned  everything,  so  as  to 
leave  us  nothing!  "  And  he  flung  to  the  ground  a  worth- 
less rag  of  half -burned  cloth  he  had  just  picked  up. 

"  How  many  camels  have  fallen!  Allah,  Allah!  "  re- 
marked another.  "  Yesterday  I  went  ahead  a  little,  to 
the  top  of  a  hill,  where  I  could  see  the  caravans  march- 
ing. How  many  there  were!  " 

"  Yes,"  said  a  third,  coming  up.  "  For  three  hours  long 
the  road  is  covered  with  them.  If  only  half  of  them 
get  to  the  Amu  Daria,  a  hundred  boats  would  not  set 
them  across  the  river." 

"  They  will  not  get  to  the  water!  "  gruffly  observed 
an  old  man  in  a  ragged  cloak,  and  a  high  shaggy  cap 
upon  his  head.  "  They  can't  get  there.  At  the  wells 
there  is  water  for  a  hundred  stomachs,  but  they  number 
thousands.  They  don't  even  know  where  the  wells 
are." 

"  I'm  not  sure  of  that,"  another  broke  in,  shaking  his 
head  incredulously.  "  They  drove  Sadik  and  all  of  our 
men  from  the  first  wells  —  they  must  have  known  all 
about  them.  I  have  heard  they  have  hollow  tubes 
through  which  everything  can  be  seen  for  a  thousand 
versts;  and  they  have  books  in  which  everything  is 
written  down." 

"Behind  us  is  Allah,  behind  them  is  Satan!  "said 
the  old  man.  "  Allah  is  stronger  than  Satan.  He  knows 
that  we  are  now  finding  plenty  of  fallen  camels  and 
horses,  and  soon  we  shall  meet  fallen  men." 

"  I  see  new  tracks  here!  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  band 
who  had  been  searching  more  to  the  right  than  any  of 
them  and  was  now  galloping  up.  He  pointed  at  the 


TRACKS.  133 

sand.  "  See  there;  those  passed  by  long  ago,  yester- 
day, but  these  went  only  to-day.  There  are  many  of 
the  others  —  you  can't  count  them;  of  these  there  are 
only  twelve  tracks  —  three  horses  passed  here,  two 
under  saddle  and  one  led  by  the  bridle.  There  are 
their  feet.  There  are  only  two  of  them,  and  they  are 
by  themselves,  not  with  the  others;  we  are  ten." 

"We  are  ten,"  was  repeated  by  several  other  voices. 
The  tandits  understood  perfectly  well  what  their  com- 
panion meant  when  he  said,  "We  are  ten!  " 

"We'll  not  catch  up  with  them!  "  said  the  old  man. 
"  Our  horses  are  poor,  but  theirs  run  well;  look  at  their 
long  steps!  " 

"Ah!  if  we  had  only  seen  them  sooner!  " 

"Ten  wolves  to  one  tiger  is  not  enough! "  the  old 
man  again  remarked. 

"  In  the  evening  you  will  know  what  the  day  has 
been!  "  sententiously  observed  he  who  had  first  dis- 
covered the  new  tracks. 

"  Let's  follow  them!  "  And  the  whole  band  crowded 
together  and  much  increased  their  speed. 

The  wolves  were  following  in  the  tracks  of  the  tiger. 
The  tracks  were  made  by  three  horses  of  the  corre- 
spondent of  the  New  York  Herald  and  his  servant.  Mr. 
Henry  Blake  did  not  at  that  moment  suspect  that  the 
pack  of  wolves  was  chasing  him. 


134  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

ADAM    KRILGAN. 

THE  white  blouses  had  reached  Adam  Krilgan.  At 
this  place  the  sand-hills  inclosed  some  wells  scattered 
over  a  wide  basin  in  their  midst. 

A  stifling,  dry  heat,  like  that  of  a  burning  oven,  sim- 
mered in  this  basin.  At  its  very  bottom  could  be  seen, 
like  black  dots,  the  small  apertures  of  the  wells.  There 
were  not  many  of  them  and  they  were  deep  and  narrow. 
The  water  could  be  obtained  only  by  lowering  buckets 
down  into  their  deep  cavity  with  long  ropes  —  a  tedious 
and  tiresome  method. 

A  thousand  thirsting  beings  had  come  to  these  wells. 
Drink,  drink  was  the  one  prevailing  thought  of  all. 
"Water"  was  the  only  word  pronounced  by  these  dry, 
withered  tongues.  But  the  water  was  obtained  only 
drop  by  drop. 

The  wells  were  guarded  like  sanctuaries;  a  strong 
watch  was  set  over  them.  The  regular  turn  in  drink- 
ing, once  established,  was  never  changed  for  anybody 
or  anything.  The  general  and  the  meanest  soldier 
stood  equals  in  their  turn.  If  anybody's  life  had 
depended  upon  a  hair,  if  it  had  depended  upon  a  single 
drop  of  water  given  out  of  his  regular  turn,  it  would 
not  have  been  given,  because  the  lives  of  all  were  in 
the  same  position. 

But,  in  spite  of  all,  these  precious  weighed  and  meas- 
ured drops  were  not  sufficient;  the  wells  contained  less 
water  than  had  been  anticipated. 

It  was  difficult  to  recognize  as  water  the  fluid  that 


ADAM    KRILGAN.  135 

came  out  of  these  wells.  Dark  yellow,  thick,  and  with 
an  offensive  putrid  flavor,  the  water  was  consumed 
with  eagerness,  and  even  the  moisture  adhering  to  the 
bottoms  of  the  vessels  was  carefully  licked  up.  In  one 
of  the  water-holes  a  dead  dog  had  been  found.  The 
disgusting  putrescent.  swollen  carcass  of  the  animal 
when  thrown  upon  the  sand  tainted  the  air  around. 
Instinctively  the  men  turned  away  from  the  well  thus 
defiled;  but  thirst  soon  conquered  their  disgust,  and 
they  drank  the  fetid  water.  For  a  full  glass  of  that 
water  they  would  have  given  all  they  possessed.  In  a 
long,  faltering  line  the  men  stood  like  shadows  for 
more  than  ten  hours  about  the  wells,  waiting  their 
turn.  They  knew  that  they  could  not  lose  their  turn. 
Officers  with  lists  of  names  in  their  hands  regulated 
the  issue,  and  whoever  was  sleeping  when  his  time  came 
was  sure  to  be  called.  But  still  there  prevailed  an 
unconscious  dread,  because  they  all  knew  that  these 
wells  were  their  only  sources  of  life  ;  without  them 
there  was  only  inevitable  death  —  they  were  no  longer 
strong  enough  to  go  back. 

These  exhausted  men,  tortured  by  a  thirst  of  two 
days,  could  not  retrace  the  road  over  which  they  had 
come,  and  whoever  would  drop  by  the  way  would 
never  again  rise  upon  his  feet.  They  all  knew  this, 
very  well. 

The  whole  expedition  had  not  advanced  to  Adam 
Krilgan  at  once.  Only  the  infantry  was  there.  The 
Cossacks  with  their  horses  were  left  temporarily  at  the 
first  wells,  and  were  to  follow  only  when  the  infantry 
column  was  ready  to  push  on  farther.  If  both  had 
come  here  together  the  place  would  once  more  have 
earned  its  terrible  name  of  Adam  Krilgan  (Man's 
Perdition). 


136  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Suddenly  a  cry  arose  —  a  cry  full  of  despair,  before 
the  terror  of  which  the  eyes  of  all  grew  dark. 

"The  cavalry  is  coming!  There  they  are  in  the 
sand-hills! " 

Another  thousand  thirsty  people,  and  as  many  horses 
barely  able  to  keep  their  legs  for  want  of  water.  These 
new-comers  depended  upon  these  wells  of  Adam 
Krilgan  —  they  must  drink  themselves,  they  must 
water  their  horses,  while  those  who  had  come  here  two 
days  before  had  not  yet  all  been  supplied! 

The  unexpected  arrival  of  the  cavalry  was  some- 
body's fatal  blunder. 

A  panic  quickly  began  to  spread  in  the  camp  —  a 
panic  which  might  result  in  general  demoralization. 

Driven  by  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  with  arms 
in  their  hands,  the  men  might  fall  upon  each  other  to 
obtain  water.  The  strong  would  have  slain  the  weak, 
the  subordinate  would  in  such  a  death-struggle  refuse 
to  recognize  his  superior  —  all  discipline  would  have 
vanished  like  smoke  in  the  air,  and  the  precincts  of 
Adam  Krilgan  would  have  presented  so  dreadful  a 
picture  of  human  delirious  fury  that  all  legends  of  dis- 
asters happening  there  in  the  past  would  have  paled 
into  insignificance  before  the  present. 

All  this  might  have  occurred  if  the  people  concerned 
had  been  different;  but  these  were  battalions  of  white 
blouses  —  they  knew  how  to  perish  without  losing  their 
human  dignity. 

An  extraordinary  council  of  war  was  called.  An  old 
gray-haired  man,  whose  name  now  graces  the  most 
glorious  pages  of  the  history  of  Russian  arms,  was  at 
the  head  of  this  council. 


DOSTCHAK    AND    HIS    BOTTLE.  137 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

DOSTCHAK    AND    HIS    BOTTLE. 

ONCE  more,  as  he  did  that  other  time  before  Atam 
Kill's  examination,  Dostchak  passed  through  the  whole 
bivouac,  and  directed  his  steps  to  the  general's  head- 
quarters. 

In  making  out  the  lists  for  the  turns  at  the  wells  the 
poor  natives  accompanying  the  column  had  been  for- 
gotten. With  baked  lips  and  sunken  eyes,  bereft  of  all 
strength,  and  voiceless,  many  of  them  had  already  sunk 
into  the  sand  in  their  death-agony.  "  Su,  su!  "  (water) 
in  the  shrillest  whisper  was  all  that  could  be  heard  of 
their  struggle. 

Staggering,  and  falling  more  than  once,  Dostchak 
went  on  to  the  general  to  address  him  in  behalf  of  his 
unfortunate  countrymen. 

"  Back!  "  shouted  the  sentry,  standing  in  his  way. 

"Let  me  go,  please,  let  me  go! "  begged  Dostchak, 
striving  to  turn  aside  the  gun  of  the  man  guarding  the 
approach. 

"Back!"  the  sentry  said  again  —  only  not  quite  so 
emphatically  and  crossly  as  the  first  time. 

"You  let  me  go  —  man  lives;  you  no  let  go  —  man 
dies!  "  said  the  native,  seating  himself  in  the  sand  at  the 
very  feet  of  the  sentry.  In  this  movement  there  was 
so  much  resolution  expressed  to  wait  until  his  object 
was  gained,  in  the  glance  of  his  old  eyes  there  was 
such  a  sparkle  of  life,  such  persuasion  as  to  the  neces- 
sity of  his  seeing  whom  he  came  to  see,  that  the  soldier 
put  by  his  gun  and  asked,  "  What  do  you  want? " 


138  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Another  soldier  came  out  of  the  tent.  Some  one 
questioned  Dostchak,  and  the  general  stepped  forward. 

"To  the  northward  from  here  —  over  there,"  Dost- 
chak told  the  general  —  "  with  a  good  horse  one  hour's 
ride  —  there  are  other  wells.  You  do  not  know  them, 
but  I  know.  I  remember.  I  recognize  this  place. 
Long,  long  ago  I  was  here.  That  is  true  —  there  must 
be  other  wells.  Tell,  Genderal,  tell  your  soldiers  to 
come  after  me.  I'll  go  first.  I  lead  them  to  the  water. 
Here  there  is  little  water  —  many  men.  Some  people 
here,  other  people  there  —  enough  water  for  all.  Listen 
to  me!  Tell  your  soldiers  to  follow  old  Dostchak.  But 
now  give  water  to  my  people  —  they  die.  Only  give 
orders  to  rub  their  lips  with  a  wet  cloth.  Genderal, 
take  pity  on  them!  "  Thus  spoke  the  old  man,  now  ris- 
ing from  his  knees  and  then  getting  down  again ;  and  at 
the  same  time  two  others  of  the  natives  crawled  up 
from  behind  —  the  strongest  among  them  —  and,  raising 
themselves  upon  their  elbows,  they  looked  at  the 
general  as  hungry,  perishing  dogs  look  at  their  master. 

"  I  have  not  yet  drank  myself,"  calmly  spoke  the 
general.  "  I  will  give  you  my  portion  when  my  turn 
comes;  I  can  get  no  other  water  for  you." 

The  soldier  on  guard  suddenly  staggered;  the  gun 
fell  from  his  hands  —  he  took  another  step  and  fell  to 
the  ground.  He  had  been  attacked  by  sunstroke. 

"Water,  quick!  water!"  shouted  one  of  the  officers, 
running  up.  "  On  his  temples  and  into  his  mouth!  " 

Where  was  there  any  water  to  be  got?  A  strange 
demand,  indeed,  which  was  made  mechanically,  uncon- 
sciously, under  the  impulse  of  the  moment.  The 
speaker  himself  became  confused  at  his  mistake  and 
turned  away.  Then  Natalia  Martinovna  appeared,  God 
only  knew  whence,  entirely  unexpected  to  all,  and 


DOSTCHAK    AND    HIS   BOTTLE.  139 

stooped  over  the  fallen  man.  She  held  in  her  hand  a 
small  round-bottomed  bottle.*  From  it  she  moistened 
a  handkerchief  and  laid  it  upon  the  soldier's  head. 
Then  she  forced  open  his  clinched  teeth  and  poured  a 
few  drops  from  the  bottle.  The  dying  natives  close 
by  saw  the  water  sparkling  as  the  sunlight  struck  the 
greenish  glass.  Gathering  their  last  strength,  they 
wriggled  up  to  the  sister  of  mercy  and  convulsively 
seized  her  dress.  Some  soldiers  rushed  up  to  release 
her. 

"  Hold  on!  "  Natalia  said,  calmly.  "  There  is  a  drop 
left  for  them;  they  do  not  need  much  —  only  hold  their 
hands  so  that  they  can  not  grasp  the  bottle.  That's  it!  " 
The  soldiers  kept  a  firm  hold  of  the  natives'  hands  until 
Natalia  had  poured  into  their  mouths  what  was  left  in 
the  bottle.  Left  to  themselves  they  would  have  been 
ready  to  crush  the  neck  of  the  saving  vessel  with  their 
teeth,  or  to  tear  the  bottle  from  her  hands. 

The  natives  wept,  and  kissed  the  tracks  left  in  the 
sand  by  the  woman's  feet.  The  soldiers  crossed  them- 
selves reverently. 

The  ends  of  the  thin  muslin  kerchief  which  covered 
Natalia's  head  fluttered  in  the  wind,  standing  out 
from  her  shoulders.  In  the  terrible  heat  a  trembling 
mist  obscured  vision  and  gave  strange  outlines  to 
objects.  It  must  have  been  from  these  causes  that 
these  handkerchief -ends  appeared  to  all  those  present 
like  a  pair  of  shining  wings. 

It  was  impossible  to  ascertain  on  the  spot  the  truth 
or  falsehood  of  what  Dostchak  had  told  the  general 
concerning  some  other  wells.  Nor  was  it  advisable  to 
order  at  once  a  part  of  the  command  to  proceed  to 

*  Such  bottles  are  used  to  keep  "holy  water  "in.  Natalia 
must  have  carried  one  with  her. 


140  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

them.  He  had  been  there  long-  ago.  He  said  himself 
that  many  years  had  passed  by  since  then.  The  wells 
might  no  longer  exist  though  they  once  had  been  there. 
When  the  old  man  was  informed  how  matters  stood  he 
exclaimed  :  "  Give  me  a  horse,  Genderal;  a  good  horse. 
See,  here  I  have  a  bottle!  "  and  he  drew  from  the  inside 
of  his  cloak  a  felt-covered  bottle. 

"You  see,"  he  continued,  "this  bottle  is  empty. 
Look  for  yourself  —  there  is  not  a  drop  in  it.  Oh,  if 
there  was  only  a  little!  I  will  go  alone;  if  the  Tur- 
komans do  not  kill  me  there  at  those  other  wells, 
I'll  come  back  and  bring  you  this  bottle  full.  Then, 
then  you  will  send  the  other  men  after  me.  Will  you 
send  them?" 

It  was  impossible  to  object  to  such  a  proposition. 
They  gave  Dostchak  a  horse  and  he  rode  away. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

AT    THE    OTHER    WELLS. 

THE  sandy  desert  lay  before  him  in  deathlike  soli- 
tude when  Dostchak  set  out  from  the  camp.  The  roar 
and  noise  of  the  bivouac  had  been  swallowed  up  com- 
pletely by  the  sand-hills  behind  him.  His  worn-out 
horse,  though  a  good  one,  went  along  slowly  under  his 
rider,  not  minding  the  kicking  of  heels  against  his  thin 
sides,  nor  the  strokes  of  the  whip  dealt  him  by  the 
impatient  native. 

Carefully  and  anxiously  Dostchak  examined  his  sur- 
roundings—  they  seemed  all  alike.  One  sand-hill  was 


AT    THE    OTHER    WELLS.  141 

followed  by  another,  exactly  alike ;  each  wavelike  ridge 
a  repetition  of  its  fellow  —  it  looked  as  if  they  had  all 
been  cast  in  the  same  mold.  In  sharp  contrast  with  the 
reddish-yellow  sand,  the  grayish-blue  cloudless  sky 
hung  over  it.  Desolation  and  emptiness  on  earth,  and 
the  same  in  the  sky  —  not  a  cloud,  not  a  bird.  Why 
should  independent  creatures  direct  their  flight  to  this 
region  of  death?  With  a  scarcely  perceptible  rustle 
some  large-headed  lizards  scurried  over  the  sand  — 
they  do  not  need  water.  They  saw  the  man  passing 
by  —  they  looked  at  him,  but  did  not  hide  themselves. 
"  And  what  brings  you  here? "  the  reptiles  probably 
thought.  "We  have  come  across  many  a  bone  while 
burrowing  in  the  sand  —  horses'  bones,  men's  bones, 
and  camels'  bones;  perhaps  you  want  to  add  some- 
thing to  those  bones? " 

"  Hai'da,  hai'da! "  Dostchak  shouted  to  his  horse. 
"We  sha'n't  get  to  the  water  very  soon  at  this  gait." 
The  old  man  was  not  at  all  pleased  with  the  looks  of 
the  country.  It  did  not  seem  the  same  as  he  remem- 
bered it.  Over  there  on  that  hill  there  used  to  be  a 
large  white  rock.  Where  is  it  now?  It  must  have  been 
covered  by  the  sand.  There  ought  to  be  a  trail  right 
under  that  mound,  but  it  is  not  there.  "  Why  should  I 
not  find  them? "  the  old  man  muttered,  uneasily,  and 
looked  back.  The  track  of  his  horse  reached  back  far 
—  far  into  the  distance,  where  the  haze  swallowed  it  up. 
He  must  have  traveled  five  versts  —  perhaps  only  half 
the  road  remained  to  be  covered. 

With    nothing    in    sight    to    attract    his    attention, 

Dostchak  looked  for  his  bottle  —  it   was    there.     He 

felt    the    saddle   behind   him  —  there    was    the    rope, 

everything  in  order.     He  glanced  down  at  the  horse 

—  it   bore  a    Kirghiz   saddle,  the   bit   and  bridle  were 


142  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

of  common  make.  As  to  himself  —  his  cloak  was 
the  same  as  any  Turkoman's;  so  was  his  sheepskin 
cap,  and  the  sword  sticking  in  his  sash.  "  It  is  well 
that  I  am  rigged  out  in  this  way;  if  I  should  meet 
any  Turkomans  they'll  take  me  for  one  of  their  own 
people — 'sh!"  At  that  very  moment  two  horse- 
men made  their  appearance  climbing  over  a  ridge  near 
by.  They  were  talking  and  not  looking  around;  and 
there  was  another  emerging  from  behind  a  sand-hill. 
Farther  on  still  there  was  a  group  of  them.  Dostchak 
went  along  quietly  as  if  he  did  not  feel  the  slightest 
interest  in  the  others,  though  he  listened  intently. 

"We  went  to  look  at  the  Russians,"  said  one  of  the 
horsemen,  "but  we  didn't  go  very  close;  they  have 
some  cursed  guns  that  carry  a  long  distance.  We 
could  not  see  much." 

"I  saw  the  cannon,"  replied  the  other;  "they  glis- 
tened in  the  sun,  so  I  could  count  them.  They  have 
not  many  of  them;  our  Khan  has  more." 

"Our  Khan  has  more!  "  muttered  Dostchak,  who  had 
come  up  unperceived.  The  Turkomans  turned  about 
and  looked  at  him  sharply. 

"Is  it  long  since  you  watered  your  horse?  "one  of 
them  accosted  Dostchak. 

"  A  long  time  —  before  dawn.  I  thought  I  would 
water  again  over  there,  and  find  our  people,  but  the 
Russians  are  there,  and  I  had  to  go  on  without  water. 
May  Allah  send  every  evil  down  upon  their  heads!  My 
stallion  is  almost  spent.  Well,  all  right;  I'll  water  him 
at  Alti-Kuduk.  Are  you  long  from  there?" 

"  Since  noon.     Where  do  you  belong? " 

"  I  belong  to  God's  men,"  Dostchak  replied,  evasively. 

They  went  along  silently.  Dostchak  strove  to  keep 
up  with  them;  he  knew  where  they  were  going  —  just 


AT    THE    OTHER    WELLS.  143 

where  he  wanted  to  go.  He  only  thought  of  one  thing 
—  how  to  get  back  again  with  water  in  his  bottle. 

"  The  night  is  dark,"  he  concluded;  "  and  if  it's  Allah's 
will  —  what  is  to  be,  will  be."  And  he  struck  up  in  a 
low,  cracked  voice  a  long,  monotonous  chant. 

A  dense  cloud  of  dust  rested  over  the  hollow  where 
the  wells  were  situated.  A  large  number  of  people 
was  assembled  there  —  four  hundred  horses  or  more. 
The  horsemen  were  biouvacking  around  the  wells,  their 
animals  hobbled  close  at  hand,  and  the  men  seated  in 
small  circles  around  the  water-holes.  They  were  low- 
ering leather  buckets  into  the  apertures  with  long 
woolen  ropes,  and  pulling  them  up  again.  The  water 
splashed  over  the  rim  and  wetted  the  thirsty  sand. 
Dostchak  shivered  when  he  saw  the  waste;  his  horse 
snorted  as  if  mad,  opening  wide  its  thin,  bloodshot 
nostrils.  With  the  greatest  difficulty  the  old  man 
restrained  the  animal,  glided  from  the  saddle,  stretched 
his  legs,  and  began  to  take  the  rope  from  his  saddle. 
"Oh,  I've  lost  my  bucket!"  he  exclaimed.  "What  a 
blunder!  Mullah,"  he  addressed  one  of  a  dozen  natives 
around  the  well,  "give  me  yours,  to  water  my  horse!  " 

"Take  it!  "  said  the  man,  putting  down  his  bucket 
and  going  away  himself. 

Quietly,  without  hurrying,  Dostchak  proceeded  to 
attach  the  rope,  scratched  himself,  spat  in  his  hand,  and 
then  quickly  lowered  the  bucket.  When  he  pulled  it 
up  again  his  teeth  were  chattering,  and  his  eyes  were 
burning  as  he  looked  down  into  the  dark,  gaping  aper- 
ture. "  If  I  hurry  too  much  they  may  suspect  some- 
thing. It  is  lucky  these  are  no  organized  troops,  but 
only  runaways  from  the  standard  who  come  together  to 
rob!  They  have  no  business  to  be  curious  about  a  poor 
roving  dog  —  they'll  take  me  for  one  of  themselves." 


144  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Dostchak  got  his  bucket  full  at  last.  He  tasted  a  little 
himself,  then  he  watered  the  horse,  which  thrust  his 
head  into  the  bucket  with  such  eagerness  that  he  nearly 
upset  his  master. 

"  Enough,  enough,  or  you'll  burst!  "  cried  Dostchak, 
as  he  snatched  away  the  bucket,  pouring  the  remainder 
of  the  water  into  the  sand,  and  laid  himself  down, 
fastening  the  long  bridle  to  his  arm. 

The  sun  was  about  to  set.  The  blue  shadows  were 
lengthening;  it  grew  dark  in  the  hollow;  the  atmosphere 
was  filling  with  the  moist  exhalation  from  the  wells. 

"That's  glorious!  "  said  Dostchak  to  himself.  "I'm 
in  luck  —  but  how  are  they  over  there? "  and  he  thought 
of  the  heart-breaking  scene  at  the  other  wells.  "  If 
they  had  all  come  here  together,"  he  thought,  "it  would 
have  been  just  the  same.  The  only  hope  is  to  divide 
the  force  —  in  that  way  they  could  be  saved."  Again 
he  went  to  the  well  and  watered  his  horse  once  more; 
then  he  drank  himself,  and  stealthily  got  out  his  bottle 
—  in  the  thickening  gloom  of  evening  his  movements 
were  less  apt  to  excite  curiosity  —  and  began  to  prepare 
for  the  road. 

Suddenly  a  word  fell  upon  Dostchak 's  ear  which 
caused  him  to  glance  around  sharply,  and  then  to  listen 
intently  to  what  was  being  said  not  far  away. 

"They  do  not  believe  him  and  are  afraid  of  him," 
said  somebody  in  the  darkness. 

"  Of  whom  are  they  afraid? "  asked  another. 

"  Of  Atam  Kul  —  I've  heard  them  tell  Mat-Nias  that 
it  would  be  well  if  Satan  would  wring  his  neck." 

"  Much  foolishness  flies  from  their  tongues!  " 

"  That  may  be  —  but  they  do  not  all  believe  in  him. 
He  may  be  turning  toward  the  Russians  again  —  they 
do  not  remember  injuries  long.  They  were  saying 


AT    THE    OTHER    WELLS.  145 

that  Atam  Knl  had  sent  a  letter  to  the  Russians,  and 
they  sent  him  — 

"  That  is  possible.  I  heard  that  he  had  been  with 
them  not  long  ago,  and  when  he  left  them  he  brought 
somebody  with  him  —  a  girl,  they  said,  but  perhaps 
they  lied." 

"  No;  it's  a  boy." 

"  And  the  Khan  —  does  he  hear  nothing  of  all  this? " 

"  The  Khan  is  friendly  to  him,  and  that  is  what  makes 
Mat-Nias  angry.  Sadik  also  hates  him  on  account  of 
that  old  affair.  They  made  peace  before  the  Khan,  but 
Sadik  remembers  —  he  never  forgave  a  wrong  in  his 
life." 

"  That  is  true.     Where  shall  we  go  from  here? " 

"To  Sardiba-Kul,  they  say." 

"They  say  that  at  Sardiba-Kul — " 

The  voices  became  less  audible,  but  they  continued 
to  talk.  As  soon  as  Dostchak  could  hear  no  more  he 
took  his  horse  by  the  bridle  and  quietly  led  him  away 
from  the  wells.  Nobody  had  paid  any  attention  to  him 
when  he  came,  and  now  not  a  head  was  turned  when 
he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  from  the  bivouac. 

The  night  air  was  fresh,  and  the  horse,  having  been 

amply   watered,   made   good  speed,   and  before   long 

patches  of  dusky  red  —  the  reflection  of  the  camp-fires 

—  looming    up   above   the    horizon   showed   Dostchak 

where  his  road  lay. 


146  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

SARDIBA-KUL    AND    UTCH-CHUCHAK. 

THE  white  blouses  were  once  more  advancing  from 
their  camp  at  the  wells  of  Adam  Krilgan  and  Alti- 
Kuduk,  where  they  suffered  such  frightful  privations 
and  hardships.  If  they  had  broken  down  under  those 
privations  they  would  not  have  advanced,  and  must 
have  perished  at  that  fatal  spot,  but  they  still  had 
strength  and  e'nergy  enough  to  march. 

The  road  back  to  where  they  came  from  was  well 
known  to  them.  They  would  soon  find  water  there  — 
such  as  it  was.  The  road  ahead  of  them  was  as  dark  and 
unknown  as  the  future.  There  was  water  ahead;  that 
they  all  knew  —  the  Amu  Daria,  the  objective  point  of 
their  march.  But  where  was  it — far  or  near?  That 
nobody  knew.  Between  the  wells  from  which  the 
expedition  started  and  the  Amu  there  was  a  vast  extent 
of  deadly  sands,  and  that  region  must  be  crossed. 

Some  said  it  was  but  a  day's  march  ahead;  some 
said  it  was  three  days'.  Others,  again,  maintained  that 
it  was  more  than  a  hundred  versts,  or  nearly  a  week's 
marching.  If  it  was  two  days'  march,  the  men  would 
get  through,  and  perhaps  the  camels  and  horses;  if  it 
was  more,  nobody  would  get  through,  and  all  these 
questions  would  be  decided  at  once. 

To  remain  where  they  were  was  death;  to  go  back 
was  dishonor;  to  go  ahead  was  to  place  all  upon  a 
single  card,  and  wait.  The  white  blouses  preferred  the 
last;  to  play  the  single  critical,  fatal  card — so  they 
went  ahead. 


WATER   AT   LAST  ! 


SARDIBA-KUL    AND    UTCH-CHUCHAK.  147 

The  following  night  was  passed,  without  water,  in 
the  sand.  A  deathlike  stillness  reigned  in  the  camp; 
strange  sounds  came  over  the  steppe  from  all  direc- 
tions, sounds  which  caused  the  experienced  soldiers  to 
keep  on  the  alert.  Frequently  a  number  of  them  would 
press  their  ears  to  the  ground,  and  then  they  could 
clearly  distinguish  the  tramp  of  horses  —  the  move- 
ments of  whole  masses  of  horsemen.  The  heretofore 
silent  waste,  quiet  as  the  grave,  seemed  to  be  quicken- 
ing into  life.  Faint  but  audible  sounds  came  through 
the  air  also,  but  nothing  could  be  seen;  it  was  very  dark. 

"  Do  you  hear  that  racket? "  one  soldier  whispered 
into  the  ear  of  his  comrade. 

"  I  hear  it.     There's  many  people — 'sh!  " 

"  A  horse  snorted  —  over  there  on  that  side." 

"  The  whole  horde  seems  to  be  promenading." 

"  Did  you  notice  how  the  sun  set  last  evening? " 

"Why?" 

"All  our  fellows  saw  it.  The  captain  took  off  his 
cap  and  crossed  himself,  and  said,  '  Boys,  the  Amu 
Daria  is  near.  Let's  pray,  boys,  to  God." 

"  What  did  they  see?" 

"  An  eagle  in  the  sky.  We  only  saw  him  for  a  min- 
ute; then  he  went  up,  God's  bird,  ever  so  high,  and 
soared,  and  at  last  he  turned  away  over  the  sand-hills 
there.  They  say  where  eagles  are  water  is  near." 

"  Thirty  versts  —  an  eagle  will  go  no  farther  from  the 
water;  that  is  true!  " 

"  Yes,  thirty  versts  —  it  may  be  nearer.  Now  you  can 
hear  that  noise  again  —  back  of  the  rearguard!  " 

"I  hear  it." 

"  They,  also,  can't  go  far  from  the  water;  there  are  so 
many  of  them.     A  few  of  them  may  do  it  —  but  such 
crowds,  not  for  anything." 
10 


148  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  They  seem  to  be  everywhere  —  all  around  the  camp; 
there  must  be  many!  " 

"  With  daylight  our  eyes  will  see  what  our  ears  hear 
now.  Look!  the  grand  round  is  coming.  Who  goes 
there? " 

"The  round!"  comes  in  reply  out  of  the  darkness, 
and  a  group  of  men  on  foot  approaches  along  the 
picket-line.  The  old  general  himself,  walking  heavily 
in  the  deep  sand,  was  inspecting  in  person  the  outer 
line  of  pickets,  familiarly  touching  the  visor  of  his  cap 
when  the  men  came  to  attention  on  recognizing  the 
well-known  figure  of  their  commander-in-chief.  The 
old  man,  observing  the  watchful  care,  the  energy  and 
animation  displayed  by  his  men,  said  to  himself,  with  a 
feeling  of  pride,  "  Happy  the  general  to  whom  it  is 
given  to  command  such  men!  " 

Long  before  dawn  the  expedition  was  on  the  march 
again.  Myriads  of  stars  still  sparkled  in  the  dark 
heavens,  but  they  only  sparkled,  and  gave  no  light. 
Beneath  them  it  was  dark,  and  it  was  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish the  still  darker  mass  of  the  long  line  of  hump- 
backed camels  led  out  in  close  column.  A  somewhat 
brighter  line  —  the  infantry  —  surrounded  the  vast 
column  of  pack-animals. 

The  whole  force  marched  in  strictest  order,  ready 
for  battle.  The  enemy  was  close  at  hand,  and  no  pre- 
caution must  be  neglected.  The  movement  scarcely 
reminded  one  of  a  desperate  march  of  worn-out  troops 
through  a  deadly  desert.  It  had  more  the  air  of  a  well- 
ordered,  often-rehearsed  maneuver. 

Daylight  came;  the  wavy  outlines  of  hills  became 
more  clearly  defined,  and  the  hoj  izon  widened  more 
and  more.  -This  line  was  watched  closely  by  every  one, 


SARDIBA-KUL    AND    UTCH-CHUCHAK.  149 

from  the  general  down  to  the  humblest  "  loutch " 
employed  in  the  camel-train.  It  was  now  seen  to  be 
dotted  with  black  moving  objects.  The  enemy  was 
aware  at  last  that  the  deadly  desert  that  was  to  have 
been  the  grave  of  the  "giaours"  had  proved  but  an 
unreliable  ally  of  the  "  faithful."  The  Russians  did  not 
yet  know  that  the  desert  was  already  crossed,  that  they 
stood'  upon  the  threshold  of  a  cultivated,  irrigated,  rich 
section  of  the  Khivan  Khan's  dominions;  but  the 
others  knew  it,  and  knew  also  that  now  they  must 
depend  only  upon  their  own  strength  to  stem  the 
impending  influx  of  white  blouses.  They  gathered 
from  all  sides  in  dense  masses  to  arrest  their  powerful 
enemy  in  his  hitherto  uninterrupted  progress. 

Ahead  of  the  moving  column,  still  far  distant,  but 
perfectly  clear,  rose  three  slight  elevations.  These 
were  the  Utch-Chuchak  (three  hills),  and  beyond  them 
lay  the  Amu  —  the  end  of  all  suffering  and  anxiety. 

Without  any  orders,  as  if  under  the  influence  of  one 
common  idea,  all  quickened  their  steps;  the  horses 
pulled  at  their  bridles;  the  camels  extended  their  long 
necks,  snorted  with  their  torn  nostrils,  and  bellowed. 

"Water!"  was  reported  from  the  advance-guard. 
"Water,  water!"  resounded  throughout  the  length  of 
the  column.  A  shining  streak,  reflecting  in  its  bosom 
the  purple  and  golden  tint  of  the  morning  dawn, 
stretched  away  to  the  left  of  Utch-Chuchak.  It  was  as 
if  an  electric  spark  had  run  through  the  whole  force 
from  the  first  man  to  the  last. 

On  the  sandy  heights,  on  either  side,  small  white 
clouds  of  smoke  were  puffing  up  with  increasing  fre- 
quency—  these  were  the  Turkomans  trying  to  arrest 
the  advance  of  the  expedition,  yelling  and  shouting, 
and  galloping  over  the  hills,  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  in 


150  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

front  and  in  rear.  They  were  not  replied  to  with  a 
single  shot. 

The  water  that  had  been  sighted  was  not  the  Amu,  as 
was  subsequently  ascertained.  To  the  great  river  of 
this  unknown  country  it  was  still  a  good  day's  march. 
This  was  the  lake  of  Sardiba-Kul,  lying  in  a  shining 
semicircle  in  a  small  valley  at  the  foot  of  the  Utch- 
Chuchak.  A  green  border  of  rushes  served  as  a  frame 
to  this  glistening,  transparent  mirror.  How  delicious 
appeared  to  inflamed  eyes  the  vivid  green  —  the  sign  of 
life!  It  was  so  long  since  the  Russians  had  seen  any 
green  that  they  hardly  remembered  its  beauty. 

With  the  greatest  difficulty  the  horses  were  prevented 
from  rushing  into  the  water,  where  the  majority  would 
have  become  foundered  after  their  prolonged  compul- 
sory abstinence. 

A  lively  bivouac  soon  encircled  the  banks  of  the 
Sardiba-Kul.  Fires  were  burning  merrily,  and  every- 
where sounds  of  singing  and  music  could  be  heard. 
The  faces  of  all  shone  with  pride  and  triumph.  At 
this  time  the  fate  of  the  Khanate  of  Khiva  was  decided. 
The  principal  and  most  powerful  enemy  —  nature  — 
had  been  conquered.  There  now  remained  only  trifling 
obstacles  to  overcome,  such  as  the  white  blouses  were 
accustomed  to  look  upon  with  contempt. 

"  Well,  boys,  thanks  be  to  God,  we  got  there! " 
exclaimed  a  soldier,  as  he  was  hurriedly  divesting 
himself  of  his  shirt. 

"Ah,  friend,  water  is  free  now  —  not  measured; 
drink  your  fill! " 

"  Is  it  very  deep  here? " 

"Very." 

"  Don't  go  there  —  it's  a  deep  hole.     Bless  you!  " 

"  It  is  three  months  since  we  have  done  any  washing." 


SARDIBA-KUL    AND    UTCH-CHUCHAK.  151 

"They  say  we  will  stay  here  a  day  —  we  can  wash 
shirts  and  drawers." 

"The  captain's  horse  killed  itself.  The  bugler, 
Demka,  did  not  watch  him,  and  he  ran  into  the  lake. 
He  drank  and  drank  until  he  bursted!  " 

"  Some  men,  also,  have  taken  too  much  —  it's  not  the 
beasts  only  that  are  crazy.  Look  there  —  look!  How 
the  Cossacks  are  driving  those  red  devils!  " 

And  while  soldiers  were  quietly  and  merrily  bathing 
and  washing,  enjoying  the  abundance  of  unmeasured 
water,  a  lively  fusillade  was  going  on  all  around  the 
lake.  Great  masses  of  the  enemy's  cavalry  emerged 
from  beyond  the  Utch-Chuchak,  and  retreated  again, 
pursued  by  the  Cossacks  and  some  infantry.  Among 
the  continuous  rattle  of  musketry  the  louder  reports  of 
field-pieces  could  be  heard  occasionally. 

By  noon  the  enemy  had  retreated,  and  all  returned  to 
the  camp  and  to  rest  —  a  rest  well  earned  by  so  much 
privation  and  suffering.  At  headquarters  a  band  of 
music  was  playing.  All  sorrow  and  trouble  were  for- 
gotten. The  terrible  desert  lay  behind  them;  before 
them  a  wide  and  well-beaten  road.  The  gigantic 
undertaking  of  a  few  Turkestan  battalions  had  been 
accomplished  —  a  feat  which  caused  the  world  to  look 
upon  them  with  admiration  and  say,  "Yes,  those  are 
soldiers!  " 


152  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

NEWS. 

A  STRANGE  morning! 

The  steep,  broken  banks  of  the  Amu  Daria  are 
almost  perpendicular.  During  freshets  the  water  rises 
nearly  to  the  level  of  these  banks,  washing  and  under- 
mining them,  and  forming  long  parallel  furrows  on 
either  side,  the  bottoms  of  which  are  filled  with  a  sedi- 
ment of  mud,  sand,  and  organic  debris.  When  the  water 
falls  and  recedes  from  these  abrupt  rocky  walls,  it 
leaves  behind  low,  damp  bars  extending  along  the  foot 
of  the  cliffs.  These  bars,  or  second  shore-line  —  called 
"tugas"  by  the  natives  —  are  the  favorite  resort  of 
gulls,  king-fishers,  snipe,  and  other  aquatic  birds. 
Worms  of  various  kinds,  insects,  and  sometimes  small 
fish,  are  found  in  vast  multitudes  on  these  bars  by  the 
birds,  and  the  abundance  of  food  attracts  the  feathered 
inhabitants  from  the  whole  river  valley. 

The  dark-yellow,  muddy  water  flows  along  noise- 
lessly —  not  a  single  boat  is  visible  on  its  surface;  but  at 
times  huge  fish  jump  up  with  a  splash,  and  disappear 
again,  slightly  ruffling  the  gently  flowing  waters,  and 
leaving  behind  them  ever-widening  circles. 

It  is  hot.  The  gulls  have  grown  tired  of  flying  and 
are  sitting  motionless  upon  the  sand-bars,  resting  from 
their  early  exertions  —  the  dense  flocks  of  birds  appear- 
ing like  patches  of  snow  upon  the  reddish  sand.  Here 
and  there,  between  the  bars,  small  bodies  of  standing 
water  are  glistening  and  shining  in  the  sunlight. 

A   thin   layer  of  fog  conceals  the  distant,  opposite 


NEWS.  153 

shore  —  a  few  hills  only,  streaked  with  blue  shadows, 
can  be  discerned  rising  above  the  fog. 

The  expedition  had  gone  into  camp  upon  the  heights 
of  the  river-bank,  whence  innumerable  narrow  and 
crooked,  well-trodden  paths  were  leading  down.  Over 
these  paths  an  almost  continuous  chain  of  soldiers  was 
always  passing,  going  and  coming.  They  descended 
with  empty  vessels,  ascending  afterward  with  ket- 
tles, tubs,  and  buckets  filled  to  overflowing.  The 
kitchens  were  located  at  the  water's  edge;  huge  pil- 
lars of  thick,  black  smoke  were  rising  from  under  the 
huge  kettles.  Here  also,  not  far  away,  the  small  boats, 
resembling  pontoons,  which  had  been  carried  in  pieces 
across  the  desert  by  the  camel-train,  were  being  put 
together  and  launched;  sailors  and  infantry  soldiers 
getting  into  them  with  evident  delight,  trying  their 
qualities,  and  working  hard  at  the  short  but  strong  oars. 

All  the  native  boats  had  long  since  been  carried  away 
by  the  Turkomans  to  the  other  shore,  and  therefore 
these  pontoons  were  only  intended  as  preliminary 
means  for  beginning  the  crossing  of  troops.  With  their 
help,  and  chiefly  through  the  daring  and  enterprise  of 
some  companies  of  sailors  from  the  Caspian  fleet,  it  was 
expected  to  recover  a  goodly  number  of  boats,  some- 
how, from  the  opposite  shore;  the  only  way  being,  of 
course,  to  take  them  out  of  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

All  hostile  opponents  had  long  since  been  driven 
from  the  right  bank  of  the  Amu  and  forced  to  cross 
the  river,  the  wide  channel  of  which  now  lay  between 
the  Russians  and  their  enemies.  Consequently  the 
camp  was  quiet,  and  considered  safe,  and  many  of  the 
customary  precautions  were  no  longer  enforced.  It 
would  not  do  to  tire  out  uselessly  the  soldiers  who  were 
so  much  in  need  of  complete  rest  and  recuperation. 


154  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Joy  and  pride  at  the  accomplishment  of  their  task 
filled  the  breasts  of  all  those  who  were  well,  and  also 
had  its  beneficial  effect  upon  the  sick.  Every  day  saw 
more  and  more  of  the  hospital-cots  losing  their  occu- 
pants, and  the  physicians'  labors  grew  less  arduous  with 
every  hour. 

Increased  labor  and  cares  had  thus  far  to  a  certain 
extent  deadened  the  anguish  consuming  Natalia  Mar- 
tinovna's  heart,  but  now,  in  comparative  idleness,  her 
grief  began  to  resume  its  first  crushing  weight.  It  was 
sad  to  look  at  the  woman.  Formerly,  though  thought- 
ful and  always  serious,  she  showed  every  sign  of 
blooming  health  and  unimpaired  strength.  Now,  pale 
and  thin,  with  eyes  ever  cast  down,  as  if  guilty  of  some 
crime,  she  was  the  personification  of  grief  and  anguish. 

People  came  and  spoke  to  her,  trying  to  interest 
her  in  something,  but  all  these  attempts  appeared 
to  be  in  vain;  and  the  least  incautious  word  falling 
from  a  careless  tongue,  the  slightest  hint  at  her  misfort- 
une, brought  forth  abundant  noiseless  tears.  At  such 
times  the  greatest  anguish  was  expressed  in  her  face, 
which  had  always  borne  the  traces  of  much  suffering, 
and  the  careless  chatterer  would  curse  himself  and  his 
tongue,  and  for  a  long  time  after  would  not  dare  to 
speak,  or  even  go  near  the  unfortunate  mother. 

Golovin  alone  never  forgot  himself  in  her  presence, 
and  could  lead  her  on  to  talk  on  general  subjects,  occa- 
sionally even  succeeding  in  rousing  her  to  some  atten- 
tion and  interest.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  lame 
Cossack  was  changing  nearly  as  much  as  Natalia.  He 
looked  more  like  a  walking  corpse  than  a  living  man. 
The  fierce  struggle  began  to  tell  even  upon  his  iron 
constitution;  and  frequently,  on  returning  to  his  Cos- 
sack bivouac  and  throwing  himself  upon  his  blanket, 


NEWS.  155 

pressing  his  head  upon  the  hard  leather  pillow,  he 
would  groan,  and  even  weep,  and  then,  quickly  remov- 
ing all  traces  of  weakness  from  his  face,  go  back 
again  to  the  woman  for  one  drop  of  whose  blood  he 
was  ready  to  sacrifice  all  his  own. 

The  Cossack  had  lost  all  hope  of  saving  the  son  and 
returning  him  to  his  mother,  but  naturally  he  did  not 
let  Natalia  know  it.  Natalia  felt  confident  that  sooner 
or  later  her  son  would  be  returned  to  her  arms;  but 
she,  also,  never  whispered  a  word  of  this  hope.  It  was 
as  if  she  feared  to  find  some  people  ready  with  one 
word  to  shatter  this  hope  into  fragments,  and  therefore 
she  guarded  it  jealously,  hiding  it  carefully  from  every- 
body's eye  or  ear.  This  hope  upheld  her  in  her  min- 
utes of  severest  trial,  but  it  also  at  times  caused  her 
the  most  bitter  anguish. 

"  He  is  alive,  but  where  is  he?  How  is  he  treated? 
In  what  rough  and  cruel  hands  is  the  boy?  What 
frightful  hardships  is  he  undergoing.  What  is  the  poor 
boy  suffering  now? "  Sometimes  it  appeared  to  Na- 
talia that  she.  could  more  easily  bear  to  see  her 
child's  corpse  than  to  continue  in  this  exasperating 
uncertainty. 

She  would  have  sacrificed  anything  for  news  of 
him.  Oh,  if  it  would  only  come  from  somewhere  —  in 
a  puff  of  that  scorching  desert- wind,  or  on  the  wings 
of  that  silvery  gull  sweeping  in  graceful  flight  across 
the  river!  And,  led  by  some  indefinable  instinctive 
feeling,  Natalia  was  constantly  expecting  this  blessed 
news.  And  she  waited. 

Once,  toward  evening,  when  it  was  growing  cooler 
and  the  rosy  light  of  the  setting  sun  gave  grateful 
relief  to  burning  eyes,  weary  of  the  monotonous  land- 
scape, Natalia  walked  slowly  along  the  shore,  admiring 


156  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

the  glints  of  light  shooting  across  the  water  as  the  gulls 
darted  hither  and  thither  in  pursuit  of  their  prey.  She 
was  alone;  even  the  lame  Cossack  did  not  accompany 
her.  The  large  dog  "  Kutzee  "  ran  after  her,  energetic- 
ally wagging  his  short  stump  of  a  tail,  but  when 
Natalia  stroked  the  kind  animal's  head  his  ambition 
seemed  to  be  fully  satisfied,  for  after  giving  vent  to  a 
few  expressive  barks  he  turned  around  and  ran  back  to 
his  station  about  the  company  kitchen. 

Close  to  the  water's  edge  a  few  native  laborers  and 
militiamen  were  lounging,  and  a  few  minutes  later  the 
little  assembly  was  joined  by  a  dozen  or  so  of  roving 
beggars  coming  from  God  knows  where.  Nearly  all  of 
them  pretended  to  be  Persian  slaves  escaped  from  their 
masters  to  seek  Russian  protection,  and  our  soldiers 
willingly  gave  them  an  asylum,  dividing  cheerfully 
with  these  new-comers  their  own  frugal  and  scanty 
meals.  Of  late  the  number  of  these  unknown  and  appar- 
ently helpless  people  in  the  Russian  camp  had  increased 
considerably,  but,  as  formerly,  no  special  attention  was 
paid  to  them. 

Natalia  Martinovna  was  walking  past  one  of  the 
many  groups  of  these  people,  when  a  black-faced,  rag- 
ged, and  half -naked  native  approached  her;  glancing  at 
her  inquisitively  with  his  bleared,  rascally  eyes,  he 
extended  toward  her  his  hand,  which  was  wrapped  up 
in  a  cloth.  The  unfortunate  seemed  to  have  been 
wounded,  as  dark  stains  of  oozing  blood  were  easily 
perceptible  upon  the  dirty  rag.  He  muttered  some- 
thing in  a  language  unknown  to  Natalia,  always  keep- 
ing his  hand  extended,  and  after  keeping  at  her  side 
for  a  few  steps  he  fell  upon  his  knees.  Natalia  turned 
toward  him  and  stooped  down.  The  native  at  once 
began  to  unwrap  the  cloth,  when  suddenly  Natalia 


NEWS.  15? 

Martinovna  drew  back  and  trembled.  She  felt  in  her 
hand  a  piece  of  folded  paper.  "  Take  it  and  read  it," 
said  the  man  in  Russian,  "  then  you  will  know  all!  " 

Natalia  wanted  to  cry  out,  but  could  not;  she  wanted 
to  raise  her  hand  to  summon  somebody  to  her  assist- 
ance, but  her  strength  failed  her.  The  ground  seemed 
to  revolve  under  feet  —  she  staggered,  but  the  paper 
which  had  found  its  way  into  her  possession  thus  mys- 
teriously was  convulsively  clutched  in  her  thin,  slender 
fingers.  The  man  in  rags  had  vanished  as  if  he  had 
never  been  there.  He  had  probably  succeeded  in  losing 
himself  in  the  crowd  of  other  natives,  just  as  black,  just 
as  ragged,  and  just  as  dirty  as  he  was. 

The  cool  wind  from  the  river  had  a  reviving  effect 
upon  Natalia's  nerves.  She  roused  herself  and  walked 
quickly  through  the  whole  camp  to  her  tent.  Some 
secret  presentiment  told  her  that  in  this  scrap  of  paper 
was  contained  the  solution  of  the  problem,  the  news 
she  had  so  long  and  anxiously  expected. 

"Your  son  is  with  me  —  it  is  well  with  him.  Come 
yourself,  and  it  will  be  well  with  you.  If  you  do  not 
come  it  will  be  bad  for  him,  and  bad  for  you  also.  After 
a  few  days  the  Russians  will  cross  the  river;  ours  will 
not  prevent  them.  On  that  day  people  will  come  to  you 
—  go  with  them!  If  my  men  perish,  and  if  you  do  not 
come,  I  can  not  answer  for  your  son. 

"  MULLAH  ATAM  KUL." 

That  was  what  the  note  contained. 

"  Natalia  Martinovna,  may  I  enter? "  asked  from 
without  the  voice  of  the  lame  Cossack. 

Natalia  could  not  answer.  She  trembled  as  if  in  a 
violent  fever.  She  stood  in  the  middle  of  her  tent,  one 
hand  pressing  upon  the  table,  while  the  other  deftly, 


158  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

but  with  convulsive  haste,  concealed  the  fatal  note  in 
her  bosom. 

"  Natalia  Martinovna! "   the  voice    could    again  be 
heard  outside  of  the  tent. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

DOSTCHAK    CONCEIVES    A    PLAN. 

THE  white  blouses  had  gained  the  other  shore.  They 
did  not  cross  where  the  camp  was  established  on  first 
reaching  the  water.  For  a  few  days  the  expedition 
skirted  the  river  on  its  right  bank,  moving  downward; 
the  principal  force  ascended  the  cliffs,  apparently  mov- 
ing away  from  the  water  and  once  more  heading  for 
the  desert,  but  they  soon  changed  direction  again  and 
regained  the  river,  on  the  bank  of  which  their  camp  was 
made  each  night.  A  smaller  force,  lightly  equipped, 
moved  along  the  sand-bars  in  the  river,  being  often 
obliged  to  wade  for  long  distances.  This  force  served 
as  convoy  for  the  small  fleet  of  boats  proceeding  by 
water,  and  being  reinforced  day  by  day  by  acquisitions 
of  native  boats,  which  were  seized  wherever  the  nim- 
ble sailors  could  lay  their  hands  upon  them  —  sometimes 
with  fighting  and  sometimes  without,  as  luck  would 
have  it. 

In  this  way  the  means  of  transportation  had  increased 
to  such  an  extent  that  when  the  crossing-place  was 
reached  it  was  considered  feasible  to  take  the  decisive 
step  —  and  the  step  was  taken.  The  Russian  battalions 
penetrated  into  the  very  heart  of  the  Khanate  of  Khiva. 


DOSTCHAK    CONCEIVES    A    PLAN.  159 

The  camp  was  pitched  in  gardens  under  the  shade  of 
gigantic  plantain-trees,  in  the  vicinity  of  Khagar-Asp, 
a  Khivan  fortified  town.  Reports  had  been  received  to 
the  effect  that  other  expeditions,  coming  from  the  Cau- 
casus and  from  Orenburg,  were  on  the  march  to  Khiva, 
and  that  they  were  already  near,  and  these  rumors  insti- 
gated the  Turkestan  column  to  greater  haste  in  order  to 
reach  the  avails  of  Khiva  and  not  let  the  palm  of  first 
success  fall  into  other  hands.  It  was  even  said  that  the 
steamers  of  our  Aral  fleet  had  ascended  from  Kazalinsk 
to  the  delta  of  the  Amu  Daria,  and  that  they  would  push 
farther  up  that  stream.  The  Khivan  drama  was  enter- 
ing upon  its  last  act  —  the  dismemberment. 

Dostchak  was  celebrating  a  great  holiday.  He  had 
attireS  himself  in  his  very  best  red  cloak,  the  same  that 
had  been  presented  to  him  by  the  commander-in-chief 
only  last  week.  He  also  put  on  his  yellow  trousers 
embroidered  with  silk;  these  trousers  Dostchak  had 
bought  of  a  soldier  after  a  foraging  expedition.  Many 
excellent  articles  were  sold  cheap  on  that  occasion,  and 
for  these  trousers,  to  which  the  otherwise  poor  fellow 
could  never  have  aspired  in  his  wildest  dreams,  he  paid 
altogether  two  "kokans"  (about  20  cents).  Over  his 
small  oily  tybeteika  (Bashkir  cap)  he  wore  a  large 
striped  woolen  turban. 

"  You  are  like  the  Mulla  of  Samarkand!  "  said  Sharip, 
raising  his  hands  in  astonishment  on  seeing  Dostchak 
in  his  full  dress. 

"  He's  a  warrior!  "  said  Karim,  shaking  his  head  and 
smacking  his  lips. 

"Oho!"  cried  the  general's  native  servant,  Uzen. 
"  You  look  a  greater  man  now  than  mine.  Truly,  you 
are  greater — your  ribbon  is  so  much  redder.  Let  me 


160  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

see!  and  there  are  two  little  yellow  roads  on  the  sides 
—  one  is  the  road  by  which  you  went  to  the  wells,  and 
on  the  other  you  came  back  again;  there  they  are, 
both  the  roads. 

The  servant,  who  had  come  to  the  place  of  meeting 
on  horseback,  alighted,  and  walking  up  to  Dostchak 
looked  long  and  earnestly  at  his  breast,  on  the  left  side 
of  his  cloak;  then,  stepping  back  a  pace,  he.  looked 
again,  bending  his  head  a  little  aside,  and,  winking, 
again  cried,  "  Oho!  "  He  then  went  to  tie  up  his  sorrel 
stallion,  covering  him  from  ears  to  tail  with  a  warm 
horse-cloth. 

On  old  Dostchak's  breast  there  twinkled  in  the  sun  a 
large  gold  medal  suspended  by  a  red  gold-edged  rib- 
bon. It  shone  like  the  sun,  which  was  reflected  in  its 
disk,  and  the  same  bright  reflection  was  thrown  upon 
the  old  man's  face.  It  shone  brightly  on  this  aged 
countenance,  marked  with  scars  and  wrinkles,  and  it 
reflected  the  greatest  satisfaction,  joy,  and  full  and 
unlimited  happiness. 

Dostchak  had  received  this  medal  from  the  general 
only  to-day  —  he  received  it  for  his  bold  journey  to  the 
wells  at  Alti-Kuduk;  and  now  he  was  gathering  his 
friends  to  rejoice  with  him  over  his  good  fortune.  His 
companions  were  as  much  pleased  as  he  was  himself. 
They  had  clubbed  together  and  purchased  a  sheep  from 
the  Cossacks  —  it  did  not  come  high  —  cut  it  up,  pro- 
cured some  rice,  and  then  proceeded  to  cook  a  grand 
"pilaf,"  such  as  they  had  not  seen  for  six  months  at 
least. 

Soldiers  passing  by  and  happening  to  stop  were 
asked  at  once  to  sit  down,  the  simple  natives  rejoicing 
over  every  new  guest  added  to  the  feast.  And  why 
should  they  care  how  many  came,  since  Sharip  had 


DOSTCHAK    CONCEIVES    A    PLAN.  161 

emptied  a  whole  sack  of  rice  into  the  huge  kettle? 
That  kettleful  would  have  been  amply  sufficient  for 
half  a  company. 

The  natives  had  selected  a  pleasant  place  for  their 
festivities.  Three  plantain-trees  were  growing  close 
together  in  a  row  on  the  bank  of  an  irrigating  ditch. 
These  trees  cast  such  a  dense,  cool  shade!  It  extended 
over  the  water,  and  spread  so  far  that  even  Uzen's  horse, 
which  was  tethered  ten  paces  away,  enjoyed  its  shelter. 
Behind  the  plantain-trees  rose  a  high  wall  lined  with  a 
row  of  tall  poplars,  and  through  the  interstices  between 
them  could  be  seen  the  dark-green  branches  of  more 
plantain-trees,  with  ripe  yellow  fruit  shining  like  amber 
here  and  there  in  the  sunlight.  There  must  have  been 
vast  quantities  of  this  fruit  when  any  of  it  could  be 
preserved  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  hungry,  popu- 
lous camp. 

The  semi-spherical  cupola  of  a  mosque  rose  beyond 
the  poplars,  and  upon  its  top  a  clumsy  stork's-nest 
loomed  up  darkly.  The  long-legged  bird,  white,  with 
black  wings  and  a  long  red  bill,  stood  upon  its  nest  with- 
out any  fear  of  the  people  camped  below,  though  prob- 
ably it  had  never  in  its  life  seen  such  crowds  before. 
Somewhere  in  the  distance  music  was  playing,  just 
near  enough  to  allow  the  feasting  natives  to  enjoy  it. 

"That's  just  what  we  like!  "  said  Uzen,  looking  com- 
placently first  at  his  own  person  and  then  all  around; 
and  all  his  companions  agreed  with  him. 

"You've  spoken  truly,"  said  Dostchak,  adjusting  his 
new  turban  upon  his  head;  "that's  true." 

Encouraged  by  the  applause  evoked  by  his  profound 
remark,  Uzen  ventured  to  dish  up  some  news.  "  The 
.Khan,"  he  said,  "has  written  a  letter  to  the  genderal 
asking  him  to  stay  awhile  where  he  is,  and  not  go  any 


162  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

farther.    '  You,'  he  writes, '  wait  until  I  drive  those  others 
away  —  to  fight  all  at  once  is  very  hard  for  me.'  " 

"Well?" 

"  'What,'  he  says,  'do  you  want  of  Khiva?  You  don't 
need  Khiva,  but  I,'  he  says,  '  I  need  it.  You,'  he  says, 
'  wait,  please,  and  I  will  send  you  forty  cloaks,  forty 
camels,  forty  sheep,  forty  horses,  and  forty  women  — 
good  Khivan  and  Persian  women;  only  stay  where  you 
are,  please! ' ' 

"  Who  has  told  you  all  that,  old  fellow? "  inquired  an 
infantry  soldier  who  was  puffing  at  his  short  pipe. 

"  Who  told  me  — me? " 

"Yes,  you! " 

"  Don't  the  genderal  smoke  small  pipe  made  of 
paper? " 

"Cigarettes?    Yes,  he  smokes  them." 

"  Don't  the  Cossack  Demianka  bring  fire  to  the  gen- 
deral? " 

"Yes." 

"  The  genderal  smokes,  and  Cossack  Demianka  gives 
him  fire  —  there  is  only  a  small  table  between  the  Cos- 
sack and  the  genderal;"  and  the  native  showed  with  his 
hands  that  only  about  half  a  yard  separated  one  from 
the  other. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  consented  the  soldier. 

"  Over  such  a  short  road  one  can  hear  everything, 
can't  he?" 

"Very  likely." 

"  Well,  that  same  Cossack  Demianka  told  me  that  the 
Khan  wrote  to  the  genderal,  and  I  tell  it  to  you." 

"  You  are  right,"  Dostchak  again  consented.  "  I 
should  like  to  see  that  letter.  The  Khan's  name  must 
be  written  with  gold  paint." 

"Can  you  read  their  lingo,  or  yours —  or  is  it  all  the 


DOSTCHAK    CONCEIVES    A    PLAN.  163 

same? "  asked  the  company  clerk,  Kuska,  who  had 
come  up  staggering  and  was  now  holding  onto  a 
branch  of  a  tree  to  steady  himself  upon  his  legs. 

"  Say,  Brother  Kuska,"  said  the  infantryman,  "  where 
did  you  get  it?  "  explaining  his  meaning  by  inserting 
two  fingers  between  his  throat  and  the  collar  of  his 
shirt. 

"  I? —  do  you  mean  me?  Oh,  I  can't  always  remem- 
ber. I  am  the  company  clerk — I'm  an  official.  Hey, 
tamir  [my  friend],  what  is  your  name?  Shaltai-Boltai 
something.  Do  you  know  how  to  carry  your  gun  on 
guard?" 

"What  do  I  want  with  a  gun  on  guard?  "  replied  the 
native.  "  I  don't  have  to  stand  guard." 

"I  can  read  a  little,"  said  Dostchak;  "the  Mullah 
at  Almatakh  taught  me.  "  But  I  can  not  write  —  I 
never  learned.  It's  hard  to  write;  very  difficult 
indeed! " 

"Yes,  it's  hard." 

"  But  which  is  more  difficult  —  to  write  Russian  or  to 
write  Tartarsky?  " 

"  In  Tartarsky  it  is  much  harder,"  Clerk  Kuska  gave 
his  opinion.  "  I  manage  to  get  away  pretty  slick  with 
oitrs,  but  of  yours  I  can't  make  anything,  even  when 
I'm  drunk.  The  devil  himself  could  not  decipher  your 
loops  and  pothooks;  and  it's  all  upside  down,  and  reads 
backward!  " 

"  But  you  can  write  Russian  well?  "  tentatively  ques- 
tioned Dostchak,  twirling  his  fingers. 

"  Like  print!  " 

"  Can  you  write  like  the  genderal? " 

"  Not  only  like  the  general  —  I  write  good  enough  for 
the  minister.  I  take  a  sheet  of  paper  and  with  one  — 
two  strokes  like  this  the  sheet  is  half -covered!  In  a 
11 


164  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

week  I've  got  away  with  fourteen  report-books.  That's 
what  you  may  call  real,  thorough  education!  " 

"Sit  down,  please;  sit  down  there!  Plov  ashat  — 
maklian  ashat  [eat  pilaf,  eat  mutton].  Sit  down,  please! " 
urged  Dostchak,  hurriedly  clearing  a  place  next  to  him- 
self for  his  guest. 

The  pilaf  was  ready,  and  they  began  dishing  it  out  in 
large  shallow  saucers.  They  spread  a  horse-cloth  and 
placed  the  smoking  dishes  before  the  guests,  who  with 
naked  fingers  were  soon  diving  into  the  hot  compound 
of  rice,  meat,  and  melted  fat.  They  ate  with  enjoy- 
ment and  appetite;  they  ate  as  if  to  repay  themselves, 
with  interest,  for  past  privations.  Such  pilaf  did  not 
fall  to  their  lot  many  times  in  their  simple,  frugal  lives! 

They  ate  all  day,  and  in  the  evening  it  was  as  if  the 
two-year-old  sheep  had  never  existed,  and  but  little  of 
the  rice  remained  in  Sharip's  kettle. 

During  all  this  time  old  Dostchak  was  doing  the 
honors  chiefly  to  Clerk  Kuska.  He  flattered  him  with 
the  titles  of  Mullah  and  Mirza;  selected  for  him  the 
choicest  morsels,  and  even  placed  them  in 'his  mouth 
with  his  own  fingers.  Before  long  Kuska  succumbed, 
drunk  as  he  already  was,  and  now  gorged  to  repletion. 
Dostchak  gently  and  carefully  removed  him  to  the 
wall,  and  placed  a  cloth  over  his  head  to  prevent  his 
being  recognized  from  the  road. 

"  Why  are  you  bothering  yotirself  so  much  about 
him? "  Uzen,  the  general's  servant,  asked  the  old  man. 
"  Don't  you  see  he's  been  feeding  like  a  pig,  andj  he  is 
drunk?  You  might  have  treated  some  better  man!  " 

"  That  man  is  very  necessary  to  me,"  muttered 
Dostchak.  "Oh,  how  necessary!  He  can  write  like 
the  genderal  himself!  " 

"  What  good  does  that  do  you? " 


DOSTCHAK    CONCEIVES    A    PLAN.  165 

"That  man,"  began  Dostchak,  and  stopped,  listening 
intently  in  the  direction  of  his  hut;  then,  probably  rind- 
ing everything  satisfactory,  he  continued:  "  That  man 
can  do  a  great  thing  for  me — Dostchak;  and  from 
that  thing  good  will  come  to  the  good  and  evil  to  the 
bad." 

"  You  are  talking  riddles!  " 

"Yes,  riddles!  Dostchak  has  been  thinking  a  long 
time.  When  I  went  to  the  other  wells  —  for  these  — 
do  you  see?  "  pointing  with  his  finger  to  his  medal  and 
ribbon,  making  it  clear  what  wells  he  referred  to  —  "  at 
that  time  Dostchak  was  already  thinking,  and  he  is 
thinking  now,  and  will  think  to-morrow,  and  he  tells 
nobody  what  he  is  thinking;  but  in  due  time  all  the 
people  will  know,  and  they  will  say, '  Well,  old  Dostchak, 
if  he  is  old,  his  mind  has  not  left  him  on  account  of  his 
age!  ' " 

The  last  guests  went  away.  The  night  was  dark  and 
quiet;  not  a  light  was  visible  anywhere.  The  moon  had 
not  yet  risen  and  the  stars  gave  but  little  light.  Espe- 
cially tinder  the  trees  it  was  so  dark  that  a  cat  could 
not  have  seen  anything,  not  even  the  white  blouse  of 
Clerk  Kuska  as  he  lay  there  filling  the  neighborhood 
with  his  snoring. 

In  the  distance  the  officers'  tents  shone  like  gigantic 
many-colored  lanterns,  and  here  and  there  glimmered 
like  sparks  the  burning  ends  of  cigars.  In  the  direction 
of  Khazar-Asp  a  reddish  reflection  appeared  on  the 
sky  above  the  horizon  —  it  did  not  look  like  the  moon, 
nor  like  a  conflagration,  though  it  might  be  either ;  and 
not  far  away  two  officers  were  discussing  the  point. 
Their  voices  fell  clearly  upon  the  ears  of  Dostchak,  who 
was  guarding  the  nocturnal  slumbers  of  his  guest  — 
the  man  who  was  so  "  very  necessary  "  to  him. 


166  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

"l    AM    A    MOTHER." 

"  WHAT  does  that  mean? "  muttered  Golovin,  who  was 
seated  upon  a  folding-chair  in  his  tent.  "  What  can  it 
mean?  Not  to  come  near  her  for  a  whole  day!  H'm! 
nor  at  night — in  the  morning  you  will  know  why.  I 
can't  understand  it."  And  he  read  over  again  a  note 
which  Natalia  had  handed  him  in  person  an  hour  ago, 
when  she  was  closing  the  door  of  her  tent  in  his  face, 
pushing  out  from  within  this  little  squarely  folded  piece 
of  paper,  covered  with  her  feminine  but  somewhat  reso- 
lute handwriting.  In  this  note  he  was  requested  not  to 
look  in  upon  her  at  her  tent  during  the  whole  day,  and 
not  to  make  any  inquiries  in  the  evening,  but  that  in 
the  morning,  early,  he  might  come,  and  then  he  would 
know  the  reason  of  this  strange  prohibition. 

When  the  lame  Cossack  had  read  the  note  for  the 
twentieth  time,  he  placed  his  forefinger  against  his 
forehead  and  again  inquired: 

"What  can  this  mean?"  Was  it  only  he  whom 
Natalia  Martinovna  did  not  wish  to  see  for  a  whole 
day,  or  all  in  general — and  had  all  of  them  received 
such  messages?  No;  evidently  not.  She  would  have 
neither  paper  nor  time  enough  to  prepare  so  many 
notes.  It  must  be  meant  only  for  him.  Anyhow,  the 
others  did  not  trouble  her  so  much  with  their  society 
as  he  did.  He  was  there  most  of  the  day,  from  morn- 
ing to  evening,  and  even  at  night  he  often  guarded  her 
tent  from  a  distance.  Certainly,  the  prohibition  could 
only  refer  to  him  alone.  But  what  did  it  mean? 


"  I    AM    A    MOTHER."  167 

Golovin  tried  to  remember  whether  he  had  offended 
her  in  some  way,  or  thoughtlessly  given  vent  to  some 
expression  deserving  such  punishment.  He  rehearsed 
every  trifling  occurrence  —  he  remembered  all  —  every 
smallest  step,  every  motion,  the  most  insignificant  word 
—  it  all  came  to  him  with  such  perfect  clearness,  as  if  it 
had  only  happened  a  minute  ago.  No;  there  was  noth- 
ing of  the  kind.  She  had  been  kind  to  him  yesterday, 
and  more  kind  to-day,  kinder  than  she  had  been 'for 
some  time.  Yes,  that  was  it.  He  had  kissed  her  hand, 
and  she  had  touched  his  brow  with  her  lips,  holding  his 
head  between  her  hands  in  a  kind  of  embrace.  "  Good- 
by,  my  friend,"  she  had  said  on  that  last  occasion.  Why 
good-by?  She  had  usually  said  da  svidania  (au  revoir], 
or  "until  to-morrow,"  or  something  of  that  kind,  but 
this  time  it  was  "good-by."  Golovin  began  to  feel 
uneasy  over  this  good-by.  He  rose,  adjusted  his  tunic, 
threw  his  saber  over  his  shoulder,  reached  with  his 
hand  for  his  cap,  and  again  sat  down. 

"  No!  she  has  forbidden  it,  and  I  must  not  do  it. 
To-morrow!  to-morrow!  I'll  not  have  to  suffer  long  — 
only  one  night.  I  will  go  to  sleep  and  never  know  how 
the  night  goes  by,  and  to-morrow,  early  in  the  morn- 
ing—  I  might  look  over  there  from  a  distance  —  she 
may  go  out  for  something  and  I  may  see  her.  No! 
that  would  be  taking  a  mean  advantage.  I'll  suffer. 
What  must  be  must  be.  She  has  asked  it,  and  that  is 
enough!  "  And  with  renewed  resolution  the  lame  Cos- 
sack doffed  his  tunic  and  saber,  threw  himself  upon 
his  bed,  and  smoked  his  cigar. 

It  was  getting  dark,  stars  began  to  twinkle  in  the 
sky,  and  the  last  ray  of  golden  light  was  extinguished 
in  the  west;  the  noise  and  clatter  of  the  camp  subsided. 


168  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Night  came,  the  same  night  which  the  lame  Cossack 
proposed  to  pass  away  in  sleep;  but  this  blissful  sleep 
would  not  come,  and  Golovin  felt  sure  that  it  wouldn't. 
His  head  was  burning,  his  heart  was  beating  with 
increased  violence,  and  his  heaving  chest  demanded 
air.  He  must  get  out  of  his  tent  —  out  from  under  this 
confining  roof  of  cloth,  which,  though  ever  so  light, 
now  appeared  to  him  like  the  heavy  vault  of  a  grave. 

Out  in  the  air  it  was  all  the  same — there  was  no 
sleep  for  Golovin.  He  staggered  about  in  the  dark- 
ness, stumbling  occasionally  over  tent-ropes  and  stakes. 

"What  relief  is  this?"  he  asks  the  nearest  sentry. 
"The  first!  "  comes  the  answer.  "Along  time  yet!" 
sighs  Golovin,  and  again  walks  about  without  picking 
his  way,  and  lighting  one  cigar  after  another. 

"Ah!"  he  said,  with  a  deprecating  gesture.  "I  will 
go  ahead."  He  passed  through  the  Cossack  camp,  by 
the  train  and  by  the  general's  headquarters,  and  there 
he  was,  quite  near.  "  There  she  is —  there  is  her  tent! " 
The  Cossack  stood  Mill  —  he  was  ashamed.  He  turned 
abruptly  and  walked  back  quietly.  "  There  was  no 
light,"  he  thought.  "She  must  be  asleep.  Oh,  will 
not  morning  come  soon!  It  is  only  a  brief  summer 
night,  but  how  it  drags  along!  " 

With  a  weary,  oppressed  heart  Golovin  was  watching 
how  at  last  the  faint  streak  of  dawn  grew  wider  and 
wider,  lighter  and  lighter;  how  the  crimson  spots 
began  to  blaze  up  from  the  horizon;  how  the  tops 
of  the  poplar  and  plantain  trees,  and  the  mosque  and 
its  stork's-nest  shone  in  golden  light,  and  how  the  vast, 
quiet  bivouac  once  more  broke  out  into  life  and  action. 

"It's  time  —  no,  it  is  early  yet,"  he  considered.  "But 
she  always  rises  with  daylight.  I  may  go  now,  I  am 
sure!  She  will  tinderstand  how  I  have  suffered  during 


"  I    AM    A    MOTHER."  169 

this  night;  she  will  pardon  my  haste."  Golovin  pro- 
ceeded to  Natalia's  tent.  Karpof  was  tip  and  pottering 
about  attending  to  the  samovar.  In  the  tent  all  was 
quiet. 

"  She  is  still  sleeping.  Good-morning,  Karpof!  "  Gol- 
ovin accosted  the  orderly,  and  seated  himself  upon  an 
overturned  bucket. 

"  I  wish  you  good  health!  "  replied  the  soldier.  "  The 
mistress  wanted  a  lemon,  and  I  got  a  couple  yesterday 
at  the  sutler's;  they  are  such  nice  ones;  one  is  a  little 
dry,  to  be  sure,  but  the  other  is  splendid!  " 

"You  got  the  lemons?"  asked  Golovin;  that  was  not 
what  he  wished  to  say  at  all,  but  no  other  words 
seemed  to  come  to  his  tongue. 

"It  is  time  to  get  up,"  said  the  orderly.  "  Would  it 
not  be  better  to  waken  her? " 

"  Did  she  go  to  bed  late  last  night? " 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  was  away  for  an  hour  or  two. 
When  I  came  back  the  tent  was  already  closed  from 
the  inside  —  that  means  that  she  -was  asleep.  Is  it  6 
.o'clock  yet?" 

"Half-past." 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  to  call  her?  The  samovar 
has  boiled  long  since." 

"  H'm,  h'm!  "  coughed  the  Cossack. 

"It's  all  right;  it's  time,"  the  servant  encouraged 
him. 

"Natalia  Martinovna!  "  called  Golovin.  There  was 
no  answer. 

"A  little  louder,"  advised  Karpof. 

"Natalia  Martinovna!"  Perfect  silence  reigned  in 
the  tent.  Goiovin  laid  his  ear  against  the  cloth  and 
listened.  Not  the  slightest  rustle  could  be  heard. 
The  walls  of  a  tent  are  not  thick  enough  to  prevent 


170  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

the  breathing  of  a  sleeping  person  from  being  heard. 
Golovin  turned  pale.  "  What  can  this  be? "  he  whis- 
pered. 

Karpof  was  busy  about  his  samovar  and  did  not  hear 
the  question.  Carefully  Golovin  parted  the  folds  of 
the  tent  and  looked  in.  Natalia  Martinovna's  bed  was 
vacant — there  was  not  a  soul  in  the  tent.  On  the 
small  table  there  lay  two  letters,  their  white  squares 
staring  right  into  his  eyes  —  they  seemed  to  tell  him, 
"  Take  us  up  and  read."  And  Golovin  read  them.  One 
of  these  notes  was  the  same  piece  of  paper  which  the 
ragged  Persian  had  thrust  into  Natalia's  hand;  the 
other  was  in  her  own  writing,  and  contained  but  a  few 
words. 

"  I  am  a  mother.  Forgive  me,  all  of  you.  Good-by. 
God  grant  that  it  be  not  forever!  " 

That  was  all  the  note  contained. 

"Here  is  the  samovar,"  said  Karpof,  entering  the 
tent  with  the  tray  in  his  hands. 


PART  SECOND. 
CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE    FLIGHT. 

NATALIA  had  resolved  to  go.  From  the  moment 
that  all  hesitation  gave  way  to  this  resolution  her 
whole  mind,  all  her  faculties,  were  directed  upon  the 
accomplishment  of  her  flight.  It  was  certainly  flight. 
Could  Natalia  have  communicated  her  resolve  to  any- 
body? Could  she  have  consulted  anybody?  Certainly 
not.  If  she  had  merely  hinted  a  word  of  her  purpose, 
she  would  have  been  overwhelmed  with  protests  from 
all  sides,  and  such  measures  would  have  been  taken  as 
would  have  completely  paralyzed  her  own  will  in  the 
matter.  She  would  have  been  detained  by  force. 

In  the  meantime  the  day  appointed  in  Atam  Kill's 
letter  was  approaching.  The  Russians  accomplished 
the  crossing  of  the  river,  and  she  could  expect  from 
minute  to  minute  the  arrival  of  the  men  for  whose 
lives  the  head  of  her  own  son  must  answer.  These 
men  would  assist  her  in  escaping  from  the  camp  and 
guide  her  to  him  —  to  her  son  —  and  at  the  same 
time  to  Atam  Kul.  But  Natalia  put  away  from  her- 
self the  last  name  altogether.  She  avoided  all  thought 
of  him.  Her  ideas,  her  expectations  all  centered  in  the 
first,  beside  which,  for  the  moment,  nothing  else 
existed.  She  already  felt  like  a  stranger  in  the  camp. 
She  seemed  to  have  broken  all  ties  that  had  attached 

( in ) 


172  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

her  to  it  thus  far.  She  passed  through  some  terrible 
moments  of  struggle,  but  after  that  nothing  appeared 
terrible  to  her;  she  saw  not  a  step  she  was  not  willing 
to  take. 

The  previous  night  those  men  had  come.  One  of 
them  had  already  been  in  her  tent.  It  was  again  a 
Persian,  who  had  crawled  in  stealthily  from  under  the 
side  of  her  tent  —  a  thing  easily  accomplished,  since  the 
tent  stood  next  to  the  wall,  and  close  to  it  grew  two 
plantain-trees  with  wide  branches  interlaced  with 
grape-vines.  The  Persian  climbed  over  the  wall,  and 
stretching  himself  upon  one  of  the  lower  branches  of 
the  trees,  he  waited  until  Natalia  herself  unfastened 
the  lower  edge  of  the  tent  and  showed  him  where  to 
get  in.  Half  an  hour  before  tliis  she  had  written  the 
note  to  Golovin  and  called  the  orderly. 

"  Karpof !  " 

"  What,  matushka,  your  honor?  " 

"  Did  you  wish  to  visit  anybody  to-day? " 

"Yes,  your  honor;  there  is  a  towny  of  mine,  you 
know  —  from  my  village — 

"All  right;  go!  You  can  come  back  as  late  as  you 
like." 

"  I  thank  you  most  humbly,  your  honor!  "  And  Kar- 
pof went  away  to  his  "  towny  "  at  the  other  end  of  the 
camp,  and  never  dreamed  that  on  returning  he  would 
not  find  his  mistress,  and  perhaps  never  see  her  again. 

Holding  his  breath,  drawn  up  into  the  smallest  com- 
pass, and  trembling  slightly,  like  a  wolf  in  the  trap,  sat 
the  Persian,  between  a  trunk  and  the  table,  covering 
himself  in  case  of  emergencies  with  a  horse-cloth.  The 
ragged  fellow  knew  well  that  he  risked  his  head  if  he 
was  betrayed;  but  he  also  knew  that  if  he  returned 
alone  to  Atam  Kul  he  would  only  fall  from  the  frying- 


THE    FLIGHT.  173 

pan  into  the  fire.  His  black  roving  eyes  gleamed 
forth  uneasily  from  under  his  cloth.  At  the  very  min- 
ute when  Natalia  was  talking  with  Karpof  he  was 
shutting  his  eyes,  muttering  to  himself  some  passages 
from  the  Koran — mixing  up  all  that  he  knew  by  heart 
of  the  sacred  book.  However,  he  understood  all 
Natalia  said,  and  grew  calm  again. 

Natalia  Martinovna  quickly  began  her  preparations. 
She  gathered  a  small  bundle  and  thoughtfully  tied  it  up 
in  a  black  handkerchief  —  a  white  one  would  have 
attracted  the  eyes  of  the  sentries,  and  drawn  their 
attention  iipon  her.  This  was  all  her-  baggage.  She 
then  carefully  tied  the  straps  of  the  entrance-flap  from 
within,  in  order  not  to  alarm  the  returning  Karpof,  and 
to  make  him  believe  that  she  slept.  Having  accom- 
plished this,  she  sat  down  upon  her  bed,  placed  her 
head  between  her  hands,  and  thought. 

"It  is  time!  It  is  already  dark!"  whispered  the 
ragged  one. 

Natalia  shivered  as  the  whisper  struck  her  ear,  and 
looked  about  her  as  if  frightened.  "  It  is  time!  "  she 
also  said,  and  rose  from  the  bed. 

The  Persian  emerged  from  his  horse-cloth,  and  glided 
out  of  the  tent  by  the  same  way  by  which  he  had 
entered,  Natalia  following  him. 

"If  it  were  light,"  whispered  the  Persian,  "we  could 
not  go  this  way;  but  it's  night  now  and  dark,  and  we  can 
risk  it.  Follow  after  me  —  don't  get  behind.  Here! 
hold  onto  this  vine!"  And  Natalia  went  without  hesi- 
tation, taking  no  thought  of  herself  and  leaving  every- 
thing to  her  guide.  She  did  not  move  like  a  living 
being,  but  like  a  machine.  After  advancing  about 
twenty  paces  along  the  wall,  the  Persian  came  to  a 
break  where  an  irrigating  ditch  half-full  of  water 


174  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

passed  through.  The  opening  was  scarcely  large 
enough  for  a  dog. 

"  Lie  down!  "  said  the  Persian.  Natalia's  clothes  were 
suddenly  drenched,  and  as  she  felt  her  body  immersed 
in  the  cold  water,  she  began  to  tremble,  and  her  teeth 
chattered  nervously.  "Crawl  along!"  the  voice  be- 
fore her  said.  "It  is  like  a  grave!"  passed  through 
Natalia's  head  as  she  felt  the  mud  walls  over  and  close 
beside  her,  so  near  that  she  hurt  her  elbows,  hands,  and 
head  as  she  moved  along.  At  last  she  saw  a  star 
twinkling  ahead  of  her,  and  then  another,  and  a  third, 
and  they  rose  from  the  tunnel  and  could  stand  upright 
once  more.  Dirty  water  was  dripping  from  the  Per- 
sian's rags;  Natalia's  garment's  clung  to  her  body, 
heavy  as  lead. 

"This  here  is  dry,"  said  the  Persian,  showing  her  the 
bundle.  "  I  held  it  with  my  teeth  —  that's  why  it 
is  dry.  Now  we  must  go  here  —  over  there  are  your 
soldiers."  It  was  true;  she  could  hear  Russian  conver- 
sation not  more  than  ten  paces  away,  and  she  could  see 
the  glimmer  of  the  soldiers'  pipes. 

"  They  say  the  Orenburg  expedition  has  already 
reached  Khiva? " 

"  I've  heard  they  have." 

"  They  got  there  before  us,  the  devils!  " 

"  That's  nothing.  They  are  not  ahead  of  us.  With- 
out us  they  could  not  have  undertaken  it  at  all." 

"May  the  will  of  Allah  be  done!"  whispered  the 
Persian.  "  We  must  go  here." 

The  dense  foliage  of  grape-vines  rustled  about 
Natalia's  person;  she  frequently  stubbed  her  feet 
against  the  knotty  roots  and  tangled  vines,  while  her 
feet  sank  into  the  soft  mold  of  a  cultivated  vineyard. 
For  a  long  time  they  passed  through  vineyards.  At 


THE    FLIGHT.  175 

times  they  would  sink  to  the  earth,  lie  down,  and  wait 
and  listen  to  the  voices  of  sentries,  now  on  one  side, 
now  on  the  other,  sometimes  at  some  distance,  and  then 
again  close  by.  A  hobbled  horse  pricked  up  his  ears 
and  snorted  in  fright,  probably  scenting  the  fugitives. 

"This  way  is  farther  —  much  farther,"  whispered  the 
guide,  "  but  there  are  no  dogs  here.  A  man  you  can 
always  fool,  but  a  dog  never.  If  a  dog  should  see  us  or 
hear  us  it  would  be  all  up  with  the  poor  Persian.  Here, 
this  way!  " 

The  fugitives  again  passed  through  some  opening 
and  entered  the  court  of  an  empty  dwelling.  The 
traces  of  a  terrible  struggle  were  everywhere  visible 
here.  Broken  dishes  and  furniture  and  torn  clothing 
were  lying  about. 

"  Wait  here  —  I  go  to  find  out  how  the  Russians 
have  placed  their  sentries  to-night.  They  change 
their  places  every  night.  I  know  how  it  was  last 
night,  but  I  don't  know  to-day.  Sit  here  and  wait:" 
He  pushed  her  into  a  corner  of  the  dark  dwelling,  and 
added:  "  Wait;  I  come  soon.  If  you  hear  noise  over 
there,"  pointing  with  his  finger — "if  you  hear  shooting, 
or  if  I  cry  loud  —  I  shall  cry,  without  fail  —  then  go 
home  by  yourself ;  you  understand?  " 

"  I  understand,"  whispered  Natalia,  and  sat  down 
to  wait. 

How  dark  it  was  in  the  building,  and  how  sultry! 
How  slowly  the  time  seemed  to  drag!  An  invisible 
hand  seized  her  dress.  "  Come!  "  whispered  the  well- 
known  voice  at  her  very  ear.  "  Glory  be  to  Allah!  " 
said  the  Persian.  "  On  that  side  are  the  Cossacks  —  we 
can  easily  pass  them.  If  the  infantry  was  there,  our 
business  would  be  finished,  but  these  fellows  sleep; 
they  see  nothing  and  hear  but  very  little.  Let  us  go! 


176  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Do  you  know,"  suddenly  asked  her  guide,  "  where 
the  last  Russian  sentries  are  now? "  He  spoke  no 
longer  in  a  whisper,  but  in  his  natural  voice,  causing 
Natalia  to  shiver  and  to  turn  her  face  toward  him. 
"They  are  over  there;  and  you  know  how  far  their 
bullets  carry  —  now  they  could  hardly  reach  us.  Allah 
has  been  merciful  to  us  this  night!  " 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

BEYOND    THE    RUSSIAN    CAMP. 

"  WE'LL  go  a  little  farther,  where  our  people  are  wait- 
ing, and  there  we'll  find  horses.  We  shall  not  go  on 
foot  the  whole  way."  These  explanations  were  made 
to  Natalia  by  the  Persian  while  he  kept  a  strong  hold 
of  her  dress.  He  probably  still  feared  that  she  would 
change  her  mind  and  run  away. 

"  We  must  go  a  long  way  yet  to-night.  Atam  Kul 
is  now  at  Khazar-Asp.  Mat-Nias  has  gone  to  Khiva; 
Mat  Murad  is  not  far  from  Atam  Kul,  and  all  the  others 
are  over  there  to  the  westward  fighting  with  the  Rus- 
sians who  came  from  the  sea."  The  Persian  now  began 
to  whistle  occasionally.  At  first  there  was  no  answer, 
but  after  proceeding  for  about  half  a  verst  there  came 
an  answering  whistle  from  the  right  of  the  road, 
where  the  dark  outlines  of  a  staff  ornamented  with 
horse-tails  loomed  up  above  some  saint's  grave. 

"  Here!  "  commanded  the  Persian,  drawing  Natalia 
closer  to  himself.  In  a  second  they  were  surrounded 
by  six  ai'tned  natives.  "  I  brought  her,"  said  the  Per- 


BEYOND    THE    RUSSIAN    CAMP.  177 

sian,  ill  a  self-satisfied  tone.  "  I  brought  a  fine  woman. 
Atam  Kul  will  give  me  many  thanks,  and  make  me  a 
present  of  a  cloak,  a  horse,  and  a  hundred  kokans,  as 
he  promised." 

"  Perhaps  he'll  give  them  to  you,  perhaps  not,"  one 
of  the  natives  said,  doubtingly. 

"  He'll  give  them!  "  replied  another,  with  more  con- 
fidence. 

"  Let  us  have  the  horses! "  the  Persian  interrupted 
them. 

"  She  is  all  wet!  "  remarked  one  of  the  men,  feeling 
Natalia.  "  See  —  she  is  shivering.  You  are  chilled 
through  —  yes? " 

"  She  is  not  fat  at  all!  "  added  another,  also  examin- 
ing her. 

"  Hey!  you  must  take  them  off  —  that  will  not  do.  I 
have  two  cloaks;  I  will  give  her  one,  and  she'll  be 
warmer.  Take  them  off!  " 

Awkward  hands  began  to  roughly  divest  Natalia  of 
her  garments;  hooks  were  broken  and  flew  off,  strings 
were  torn.  "  How  she  is  bundled  up!  Our  women 
know  better  how  to  dress,"  said  one  of  the  men  who 
were  acting  as  "  maids  "  to  Natalia  Martinovna.  "  Take 
it  off!  What  are  you  holding  back  for?  Take  hold  of 
her  hand! " 

Natalia  mechanically  protested  against  the  unwel- 
come assistance,  but  she  was  only  half-conscious.  It 
seemed  as  if  all  that  was  happening  to  her  was  not 
reality,  but  a  dream.  They  divested  her  of  everything 
but  her  chemise,  and  then  threw  over  her  shoulders  a 
wadded  and  quilted  cloak.  This  garment  gave  forth  a 
very  disagreeable  odor,  biit  it  was  warm,  and  the 
warmth  acted  gratefully  upon  the  woman's  shivering 
limbs. 


178  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  Give  her  your  cap!  "  said  the  Persian  to  somebody; 
"  you  can  get  along  with  your  turban.  Now  — now  you 
are  just  like  a  '  dshigit,"  and  not  like  a  woman  at  all. 
Ha!  ha!  We  can  go  along  in  daylight  and  nobody 
will  know  you.  Well,  now,  to  horse!  Take  her  and 
lift  her  up.  That's  right.  Hold  the  bridle  —  you  need 
no  whip.  You  go  ahead  and  you  two  at  her  side;  we 
will  keep  behind.  Go  on!  " 

The  tall  Turkoman  racer  carried  Natalia  quietly 
enough.  The  soft  cushion  of  the  saddle  and  high  stir- 
rups allowed  her  to  sit  quite  comfortably,  as  in  an  arm- 
chair. She  let  the  bridle  drop  and  took  hold  of  the 
horn  of  the  saddle.  Her  head  was  going  around  and  a 
rushing  sound  was  in  her  ears,  and  the  voices  of  the 
horsemen  surrounding  her  seemed  to  reach  her  from 
some  great  distance. 

The  Turkoman  horses  know  no  gait  except  a  bold, 
long  walk  or  a  full  run.  At  present  the  whole  caval- 
cade proceeded  at  a  walk,  but  they  were  making  as 
rapid  progress  as  ordinary  horses  would  have  accom- 
plished at  a  short  gallop. 

"We  must  go  far  before  daylight,"  the  natives  were 
saying.  "  We  have  to  fear  both  the  Russians  and  our 
people.  If  the  Tekkemen  —  may  Allah  preserve  us 
from  them!  —  should  see  us,  they'll  kill  us.  The  Cho- 
dori  also  will  give  us  no  peace.  If  the  Yomuds  see  us, 
it  will  be  no  use  to  say  anything! " 

"We  are  having  terrible  times  now!  They  are  not 
even  afraid  of  the  Khan.  Everybody  does  as  he  pleases. 
Go  on,  you,  in  front;  let  us  make  a  little  more  speed! " 

The  cavalcade  was  now  passing  over  a  narrow  road 
between  walled  gardens.  On  both  sides  could  be  seen 
dark  groups  of  trees  and  water  glistened  in  places. 
They  frequently  crossed  rickety  bridges  spanning  the 


BEYOND    THE    RUSSIAN    CAMP.  179 

irrigating  canals.  All  around  was  dark  and  silent.  So 
much  cultivated  ground,  so  many  dwellings,  and  a  total 
absence  of  people!  All  had  fled  or  hidden  themselves 
on  hearing  that  the  Russians  had  crossed  the  Amu, 
leaving  their  houses  and  gardens  to  destruction  and 
plunder  at  the  hands  of  the  conquerors.  Later,  when 
the  fugitives  returned  to  their  settlements,  they  would 
not  believe  their  eyes  until  they  felt  with  their  hands 
each  article  of  household  furniture  and  utensil.  They 
had  not  expected  to  find  anything  whole  or  untouched. 

By  daylight  the  party  was  at  least  forty  versts  from 
the  Russian  camp.  Around  the  fortified  town  of  Kha- 
zar-Asp  they  described  a  wide  circuit,  but  it  was  neces- 
sary to  halt  and  rest  the  horses.  This  was,  however,  not 
the  principal  reason  for  the  halt;  the  horses  could  have 
proceeded  farther  without  resting,  but  with  the  morn- 
ing came  daylight,  and  of  that  these  natives  were 
afraid,  even  though  they  were  already  beyond  the  reach 
of  pursuit. 

They  selected  a  convenient  spot,  well  concealed  from 
the  road,  and  prepared  for  a  bivouac.  The  place  they 
chose  was  the  courtyard  of  an  old  mosque,  inclosed  by 
a  high  wall.  In  the  center  of  the  court  was  a  small 
square  pond,  or  "khauss,"  filled  with  not  very  inviting 
standing  water.  Over  the  pond  hung  the  inevitable 
plantains,  covering  with  their  deep  shade  nearly  the 
whole  inclosure;  along  the  outer  wall,  which  was 
pierced  by  a  wide  gate,  extended  a  half-ruined  shed  for 
horses,  with  troughs  let  into  the  wall.  Quantities  of 
dry  dung  and  cinders  bore  evidence  that  the  place  was 
frequently  used  as  a  camping-ground.  A  great  deal  of 
alarmed  talk  and  consultation  was  caused  among  the 
men  of  the  party  by  the  circumstance  that  one  small 
heap  of  cinders  was  not  quite  cool;  but  there  was  no 

12 


180  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

choice  —  it  was  safest  to  remain  where  they  were,  and 
finally  they  hastened  their  preparations  for  a  day-camp. 

They  led  Natalia  into  one  of  the  buildings  at  the 
rear  of  the  court,  spread  a  horse-cloth,  gave  her  a  sad- 
dle-cushion, and  posted  a  guard  at  the  entrance. 

"I'll  make  you  some  tea  directly,  and  bring  it  in," 
said  the  Persian.  "  I  have  a  kettle,  and  I'll  make  a  fire 
—  the  tea  will  soon  be  ready.  I'm  only  sorry  I  did  not 
take  the  sugar  that  was  on  your  table  in  the  tent.  I 
left  also  the  bread  that  was  in  a  bag  —  hanging  up. 
Well,  we  have  something,  and  it  may  be  enough.  Until 
it's  ready  you  must  sleep."  But  Natalia  did  not  need 
the  last  injunction.  She  had  hardly  descended  from  the 
horse  when  her  limbs  refused  to  support  her.  Some- 
how she  dragged  herself  into  the  place  pointed  out  to 
her,  fell  upon  the  cloth,  and  immediately  sank  into  a 
deathlike  sleep.  It  was  a  sound  sleep  —  a  sleep  which 
could  not  be  broken  by  any  noise — the  sleep  of  total 
exhaustion. 

The  nervous  excitement  which  had  given  her  strength 
to  survive  the  night  with  all  its  alarming  incidents  now 
yielded  to  complete  physical  collapse.  When  the  Per- 
sian brought  his  little  kettle  with  tea,  half  of  a  dry  maize- 
cake,  and  a  small  green  cup,  he  could  not  awaken  his 
voluntary  prisoner.  He  did  not  trouble  himself  much 
about  it,  but  placed  what  he  had  brought  near  her  head, 
coughed  and  expectorated,  and  then  laid  himself  down 
at  her  feet  like  a  dog,  and  was  soon  filling  the  building 
with  his  snore. 


ATAM    KUL'S   MOB.  181 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 

ATAM    KUL'S   MOB. 

BEFORE  night  they  continued  their  journey.  Natalia 
was  aroused  with  great  difficulty,  and  after  they  had 
awakened  her  it  was  long  before  she  really  came  to 
herself,  apparently  not  recognizing  the  place  or  the 
people,  and  sitting  with  wild,  wide-open  eyes  staring  at 
her  surroundings.  It  seemed  as  if  she  had  forgotten  all 
that  had  occurred  the  previous  evening  and  night.  She 
did  not  understand  what  they  were  doing  with  her. 
Her  whole  body  was  stiff,  and  she  was  as  weak  as  a 
child;  they  had  to  carry  her  out  of  the  building  on  their 
hands  and  place  her  in  the  saddle.  The  freshness  of 
the  evening  air,  however,  and  the  moisture  permeating 
the  atmosphere  from  the  evaporation  going  on  in  the 
numerous  irrigating  ditches,  now  running  full  and  fre- 
quently overflowing  the  road,  acted  beneficially  upon 
her  nerves,  and  she  gradually  gained  control  of  herself. 

The  party  once  more  turned  into  the  main  road, 
which  henceforward  had  been  intentionally  obstructed 
or  destroyed  in  expectation  of  a  Russian  advance. 
The  bridges  were  torn  up;  in  the  roadway  there  were 
pools  of  standing  water  and  mud,  into  which  horses 
would  sink  above  their  knees.  In  other  places  the  road 
was  obstructed  by  barricades  of  carts  broken  up  and 
thrown  together  in  heaps;  whole  trees  had  been  felled 
across  the  highway  —  all  these  measures  having  been 
adopted  to  impede  the  movements  of  our  troops  and  to 
gain  time  for  negotiations.  Here  and  there  behind 
the  walls  and  buildings  frightened  heads  appeared, 


182  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

generally  clad  in  the  tall  sheepskin  cap,  and  more 
rarely  in  turbans.  These  heads  all  disappeared  when  the 
cavalcade  came  up,  only  to  pop  out  again  after  it  had 
passed,  and  to  look  after  it  with  curiosity  and  fear. 
Disorder  was  already  beginning  to  arise  in  the  Khan- 
ate, which  made  it  impossible  for  the  settled  popula- 
tion, the  owners  of  houses  and  tillers  of  the  soil,  to 
clearly  distinguish  friend  from  enemy,  and  countryman 
from  stranger.  It  was  beginning  to  be  a  question  with 
them  whether  fire  and  sword  were  carried  into  their 
country  by  the  white  blouses  or  by  the  black-capped 
Turkomans.  The  fanatical  hatred  of  all  Russians  began 
to  yield  to  fear  of  the  plundering  Turkomans  of  the 
steppe,  who  had  fallen  upon  the  oasis  of  the  Khanate 
like  wolves  upon  an  expiring  camel. 

The  part  played  by  the  Turkomans  during  the  late 
occurrences  in  Khiva  resembles  that  played  by  the 
Ukraine  and  other  border  freebooters  during  the  troub- 
lous times  of  our  "  Interregnum."  The  Turkomans,  the 
"  beloved  army  of  Allah,"  which  threatened  the  whole 
world,  the  "rampart  of  the  greatness  and  power  of 
the  Khan  of  Khiva,"  as  they  were  called  by  several 
so-called  authorities,  had  proved  themselves  unreliable 
in  face  of  the  white  blouses,  yielding  the  field  to  the 
latter.  Feeling  convinced  that  they  could  no  longer 
count  upon  booty  from  that  quarter,  and  unwilling  to 
return  homeward  to  their  desert  strongholds  with 
empty  hands,  they  fell  upon  the  settled  population  of  the 
Khanate.  The  Khan's  troops  —  his  regular  infantry, 
artillery,  and  armed  levies  —  were  massed  in  pro- 
tection of  Klitch-Nias-Bayu,  which  was  threatened  by 
the  Caucasian  and  Orenburg  expeditions.  From  the 
east  another  much-dreaded  enemy  was  advancing,  the 
Turkestan  battalions.  Whom  could  he  oppose  to  them? 


ATAM    KUL'S    MOB.  183 

What  was  he  to  do?  There  was  only  one  course  of 
action  left  —  to  guard  the  road  and  to  postpone,  if  only 
for  one  single  day,  the  fatal  minute. 

Mat  Nias  and  Mat  Murad  were  already  losing  their 
heads,  moving  hither  and  thither  with  their  half-demor- 
alized forces,  while  Atam  Kul  with  his  volunteers  and 
Sadik  with  his  Kirghiz  from  Kizil-Kum  were  already 
concocting  plans  for  retreating  to  the  Turkoman 
steppes,  to  Merv,  leaving  the  Khan  to  his  fate. 

Louder  and  louder  grew  in  Khiva  proper  the  voice 
for  peace  and  submission. 

"Allah  is  turning  away  from  our  Khan,"  said  one  of 
the  men  escorting  Natalia  Martinovna. 

The  cavalcade  was  now  proceeding  slowly,  the 
increasing  darkness  making  the  passage  over  the  roads 
of  this  pillaged  and  obstructed  section  of  country  much 
more  difficult.  They  were  frequently  compelled  to 
halt  and  dismount  in  order  to  remove  with  their  hands 
the  broken  and  piled-up  carts,  and  to  make  a  passage 
sufficient  for  letting  a  saddle-horse  through.  On  many 
such  occasions  they  lost  an  hour's  time  or  more. 

At  times  strange  sounds  fell  upon  their  ears.  Some- 
thing between  a  cracked  bugle  and  a  flute  —  a  singular, 
doleful  quaver — trembled  and  thrilled  through  the 
nocturnal  air.  That  was  the  music  of  the  chebizga, 
a  primitive  instrument  made  of  a  reed  perforated  with 
a  row  of  holes  like  the  flute.  At  other  times  these 
sounds  subsided,  and  then  they  could  hear  the  beating 
of  drums  and  the  monotonous  chant  resembling  a  con- 
tinuous whine.  It  reminded  one  of  the  howling  of  a 
pack  of  wolves  who  are  looking  at  some  coveted  prey 
inaccessible  to  them. 

"Those  are  our  people,"  said  one  of  the  natives, 
pointing  with  the  whip  in  his  hand. 


184  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  Hey!  "  they  were  unexpectedly  challenged  from  the 
right  of  the  road.  The  horses  trembled  and  rose  on 
their  hind  legs;  the  riders  instinctively  looked  to  their 
weapons. 

"  Who  is  on  the  road?  "  the  challenge  was  repeated. 

"That  is  Dost-Mahomet,"  said  the  Persian;  "that  is 
his  voice!  " 

"We  are  friends  —  friends!  "  cried  the  "dshigits." 

Several  horsemen  emerged  from  the  gloom  and  rode 
up.  In  spite  of  the  darkness  they  looked  closely  at 
Natalia  Martinovna,  and  in  spite  of  her  cloak  and  cap 
one  of  them  asked,  "  A  woman? " 

"Yes,  a  woman,  but  not  yours!  "  the  Persian  replied, 
gruffly. 

"  Where  did  you  get  her?  " 

"There,  where  she  is  not  now!  Eh,  friend?  Go 
on  farther  —  go!  " 

"Ah,  she  is  young!  Easy;  what  are  you  doing?  My 
knife  is  handy  enough  —  what  are  you  afraid  of?" 

"This  is  Atam  Kul's  wife,"  said  the  Persian.  "He 
will  give  it  to  you  if  I  tell  him.  Just  wait;  he'll  show 
you.  What  do  you  want  to  look  at  other  people's 
women  for? " 

"Well,  we  only  look.  We  have  not  touched  her, 
have  we?" 

"  Where  is  he? " 

"At  Rustem's  house.  He  is  sitting  in  the  garden. 
But  do  not  go  .to  see  him.  He  is  in  such  humor 
nobody  can  go  near  him.  He  had  some  trouble  with 
Mat  Nias." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  him.     Go  on!  " 

The  cavalcade  passed  through  a  gate  between  two 
low  bastions  with  castellated  tops.  The  horses'  hoofs 
clattered  upon  the  flags  with  which  the  court  was  paved. 


MAT  MURAD'S  HEADQUARTERS.  185 

Again  the  horsemen  traversed  a  narrow,  steep,  cov- 
ered passage,  and  then,  in  single  file,  passed  over  a 
narrow  path  meandering  between  apricot-trees  and 
grape-vines  Before  them  a  dark,  massive  building 
was  visible,  with  feeble  reflections  of  camp-fires  upon 
its  walls.  Voices  became  audible.  The  Persian  alighted 
from  his  horse,  gave  the  bridle  to  one  of  his  men, 
passed  his  hands  over  Natalia's  form  as  if  to  assure 
himself  that  she  was  there,  and  then  entered  Rustem's 
villa,  or  fort. 

The  other  riders,  remaining  behind,  also  began  to 
alight  from  their  tired  steeds.  Farther  on  shone  the 
white  and  red  squares  of  paper  lanterns.  Some  one 
came  hurriedly  forth  to  meet  them. 

"Allah  has  been  merciful  to  us,"  said  the  voice  of  the 
Persian. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MAT  MURAD'S  HEADQUARTERS. 

ABOUT  twenty  versts  from  Khiva,  on  the  Khazar-Asp 
road,  the  hamlet  of  Chaganak  lies  concealed  between 
luxuriant  gardens.  It  is  a  small  hamlet,  consisting  of 
only  eight  dwelling-houses.  These  buildings  stand 
four  on  either  side  of  the  road.  From  roof  to  roof  of 
the  houses  thus  confronting  each  other  long  poles  have 
been  laid,  piled  with  brushwood,  and  the  whole  again 
covered  with  zinc  plates.  This  shed  protects  the  whole 
street,  making  it  dark  and  cool,  and  the  inhabitants  of 
Chaganak  sit  here  the  whole  day,  from  morning  till 
night,  in  front  of  their  shops,  enjoying  the  shade  and 


186  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

trying  to  entice  each  passing  traveler  to  tarry,  to  take 
a  smoke  from  the  ever-ready  kalyan,  to  drink  tea  and 
in  the  meantime  to  give  his  horse  a  breathing-spell. 

The  Chaganak  people  are  all  traders;  they  keep  kal- 
yan-pipes,  samovars,  and  deal  in  anything  a  traveler  may 
need.  They  make  their  living  altogether  off  the  way- 
farers, and  therefore  each  passer-by  who  lingers  under 
their  arcade-like  street  means  some  profit  to  them, 
however  small.  Long  trains  of  carts  are  especially 
profitable  to  these  people.  As  soon  as  the  squeak 
of  their  ungreased  axles  is  heard  on  the  road,  they 
hasten  to  rekindle  the  charcoal  under  the  samovars, 
and  to  throw  brushwood  upon  the  fires  in  the  cold 
winter-time.  Then  they  look  out  from  under  their 
shed  and  wait.  They  do  not  crowd  each  other  to 
invite  the  travelers  to  their  own  shop  —  knowing  well 
that  there  is  business  enough  for  all,  as  there  are  only 
eight  little  shops,  or  rather  eight  "caravanserais," 
as  they  love  to  call  them. 

At  the  present  time  a  large  number  of  strangers  were 
occiipying  Chaganak;  the  whole  street  was  blocked 
with  horses  and  there  was  no  space  to  walk  along  the 
road,  nor  was  there  any  room  left  in  the  shops,  and  even 
the  courtyards  from  the  gates  to  the  back  walls  were 
crowded  to  overflowing  with  people.  At  this  time, 
however,  the  wonderful  influx  of  strangers  brought 
with  it  no  profit  to  the  inhabitants.  The  proprietors 
were  not  present,  having  run  away  and  hidden  them- 
selves, and  leaving  behind  only  two  gray-haired  old 
men  who  were  too  feeble  to  walk,  not  to  speak  of 
running  away.  The  strange  people  had  arrived  only 
the  day  before,  and  had  now  occupied  the  hamlet  for  a 
whole  day  without  making  any  signs  of  taking  their 
departure.  All  the  horse-feed  on  hand  had 'been  fed 


MAT  MURAD'S  HEADQUARTERS.  187 

to  the  animals;  all  the  tobacco  had  been  smoked  by  the 
men,  and  all  the  tea  had  gone  down  their  thirsty 
throats;  they  had  consumed  more  than  would  have 
lasted  the  owners  a  year. 

The  visitors  were  Mat  Murad  with  his  force  of  cavalry 
and  infantry.  Not  many  were  left  to  him  of  either, 
owing  to  the  spreading  demoralization,  which  caused 
numbers  of  them  to  depart  for  other  fields  where  the 
prospect  was  more  encouraging.  He  still  had  an  armed 
mob  numbering  about  five  hundred  —  too  few  to  oppose 
the  Russians,  but  by  far  too  many  for  the  poor  people 
of  Chaganak;  but  nobody  troubled  himself  about 
them. 

The  noise  and  talking  under  the  sheds  of  Chaganak 
could  be  heard  far  afield;  and  in  addition  there  was 
the  clatter  of  weapons,  the  neighing  and  snorting 
of  the  vicious  Turkoman  stallions,  the  whining  and 
yelping  of  dogs.  Beyond  the  walls  the  smoke  was 
rising  in  thick  pillars,  blackening  and  smirching  the 
sides  and  bottoms  of  iron  and  copper  kettles;  a  band 
of  sheep  was  being  driven  together  for  slaughter, 
and  the  snapping  of  whips  by  the  men  bringing  them 
up  could  be  heard  beyond  the  last  house  in  the  row. 

From  a  safe  distance  the  rightful  residents  of 
Chaganak  were  looking  on,  and  praying,  "Allah! 
Allah!  take  these  bands  away,  quickly!"  But  Allah 
probably  did  not  hear  their  fervent  prayers.  Mat 
Murad  did  not  go,  nor  did  he  take  away  his  "  bands." 

The  "  Datkha  "  (a  military  rank  equal  to  a  colonelcy) 
occupied  the  second  dwelling,  belonging  to  Mullah 
Amandshula.  This  house  was  more  roomy  than  the 
others;  the  courtyard  contained  a  pond,  and  around  it 
grew  four  shady  plantains.  Under  these  trees  Mat 
Murad  had  established  himself  upon  some  costly  car- 


188  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

pets  and  rugs.  Near  by,  along1  the  wall,  stood  his 
horses  and  those  of  his  immediate  suite.  At  the 
entrance-gate  sat  two  guards,  dressed  in  dark-red 
cloaks,  armed  with  long  muskets  with  thin  wooden 
"  rests"  or  forks  attached  to  the  barrels.  Nobody  was 
admitted  through  the  gate  without  special  order  or 
permission  from  the  Datkha  himself.  There  had  been 
so  many  two-faced  and  double-tongued  people  about  of 
late  that  one  could  never  know  whether  he  had  to  do 
with  good  or  evil  persons,  therefore  no  unknown  indi- 
vidual was  admitted  without  the  strictest  examination 
and  fullest  identification. 

Mat  Murad  did  not,  however,  occupy  his  position 
under  the  plantains  alone;  before  daylight  he  had  been 
joined  by  Mullah  Sadik  and  his  Kirghiz.  This  well- 
known  agitator  of  the  nomad  tribes  brought  with  him 
two  hundred  horsemen,  easily  distinguished  by  their 
outward  appearance  from  Mat  Murad's  body-guard. 
A  majority  of  Sadik's  men  were  Kirghiz  from  Kuzil- 
Kum;  they  rode  their  small  Kirghiz  horses,  and  were 
mostly  clad  in  yellow  cloaks  of  camel's-hair  cloth.  On 
their  heads  they  wore  summer  hats  of  thin  whitish 
felt.  They  kept  aloof  from  the  Turkomans  and  Murad's 
guards,  and  conducted  themselves  just  as  they  did  in 
the  steppe.  They  hobbled  their  horses  and  left  them 
to  feed  at  will  on  the  grass  and  herbage  around  the 
hamlet,  while  ten  men  in  turn  stood  guard  over  the 
browsing  herd,  the  remainder  sitting  around  in  circles 
in  the  full  glare  of  the  sun.  They  were  beginning  to 
light  fires  and  to  disembowel  the  sheep  they  had 
driven  up. 

Mullah  Sadik  was  attired  just  like  the  lowest  of  his 
Kirghiz;  in  the  same  camel's-hair  cloak,  the  same  felt 
hat,  in  red  trousers  embroidered  with  colored  silks,  but 


MAT  MURAD'S  HEADQUARTERS.  189 

much  worn  and  faded.  He  was  lying  upon  a  carpet, 
squinting  about  with  his  narrow,  slanting  Kirghiz  eyes, 
and  noisily  propelling  through  his  teeth  dense  clouds 
from  his  "  kalyan." 

Mat  Murad  sat  full  of  dignity,  continually  stroking 
his  thick  black  beard,  and  frowning  angrily  with  his 
shaggy  gray  brows.  He  was  evidently  in  bad  humor, 
and  spoke  sharply  in  a  scolding  tone.  Sadik,  however, 
carried  on  his  share  in  the  conversation  with  perfect 
equanimity,  and  did  not  seem  to  care  about  the  subject 
under  discussion.  Only  his  prominently  developed 
cheek-bones  trembled  slightly,  and  upon  his  thin  lips 
there  appeared  at  times,  not  a  smile,  but  a  grimace  as  of 
pain.  It  was  probably  the  latter,  since  an  old  wound 
received  five  years  before,  under  Khatin-Cham,  had 
never  properly  healed,  and  often  opened  anew,  especially 
in  hot  weather. 

Besides  these  chiefs  who  were  averse  to  the  party  fav- 
oring further  resistance  to  the  Russians,  a  few  other  indi- 
viduals had  joined  in  the  consultation,  among  them  Ata 
Nazr  Khan,  a  tall  Turkoman  of  the  Yomud  tribe,  who 
subsequently  went  over  to  the  Russians  and  rendered 
them  no  little  service  against  his  countrymen.  An 
envoy  from  Mat  Nias,  Karim  Khodsha,  was  also  seated 
among  the  others,  dressed  in  a  large  turban  and  a  light- 
green  silken  cloak  —  an  insignia  of  his  clerical  dignity. 
In  spite  of  this  dignity  he  was  armed  from  head  to 
foot,  and  kept  near  to  his  hand  a  double-barreled  gun 
from  Tula,  with  a  fine  carved  stock  embellished  with 
gilding. 

One  of  the  attendants  had  just  set  down  before  the 
chief  a  dish  of  pilas;  two  boys  in  red  jackets  and  gold- 
laced  caps  were  serving  the  guests,  handing  them  the 
pipes,  and  moving  about  between  the  sitting  men  with 


190  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

great  agility.  The  hair  of  these  boys  was  not  shorn  in 
accordance  with  Mussulman  custom,  but  plaited  in 
strands  which  hung  down  from  under  their  caps,  giv- 
ing their  faces  a  pleasing  but  feminine  appearance, 
and  reminding  one  more  of  girls  than  of  boys.  These 
were  Min  and  Balta  Nias,  the  favorite  pages  of  Mat 
Murad. 

"They  have  surrendered  Khazar-Asp  without  a 
fight,"  said  Mat  Murad  —  "  the  old  women!  They  could 
not  detain  the  Russians  on  the  road  until  I  could  come! 
They  are  women,  not  warriors!  " 

"  But  you  would  have  lingered  still  longer  with  the 
Khan,  suing  for  his  favor,"  remarked  Sadik,  biting  his 
lips. 

"  What  is  the  Khan's  favor  to  me  —  pshaw! "  said  Mat 
Murad,  spitting  out  viciously.  "  The  Khan  is  now 
upheld  only  by  me,  and  lives  by  my  favor." 

"  You  are  not  the  Khan's  only  servant  and  helper," 
muttered  the  envoy  of  Mat  Nias  as  if  talking  to  him- 
self. 

"You  may  well  talk!"  exclaimed  Murad,  turning 
upon  him.  "You  and  yours  would  long  ago  have 
kissed  the  '  giaour's '  tail,  or  surrendered  your  guns  to 
them,  ready  for  use.  You  need  not  talk!  " 

"Time  will  show  whose  eyes  could  see  better  into 
the  distance!  "  Karim  Khodsha  replied,  quietly. 

"  If  it  were  not  for  our  dissensions,  —  if  we  acted  more 
in  unison,  —  if  there  were  no  double-tongued  dogs 
among  us,  the  Russians  would  never  have  reached  the 
Amu.  Who  let  them  come  to  Sardiba-Kul?  What 
cowards  ran  away  into  the  steppe  like  hares  and  wolves? 
All  of  you,  you  hirelings!  And  you  were  with  them; 
you  were  doing  it  all  upon  Mat  Nias'  advice." 

"  I  had  but  few  men  —  the  Turkomans  were  much 


MAT  MURAD'S  HEADQUARTERS.  191 

stronger,  but  left  before  me.  Sadik  went  after  them. 
What  could  I  do  alone?  " 

"  I  left  when  Atam  Kul  turned  his  back,"  said  Sadik, 
smiling.  "  I  do  not  intend  to  fall  into  the  claws  of  the 
Russians.  You  know  all  about  my  affairs.  The  wolf 
does  not  invade  a  pasture  when  the  shepherds  are  the 
strongest." 

"And  therefore  you  ran  away  at  the  first  cry!  You 
did  not  even  collect  the  boats  on  this  shore,  but  left 
them  to  the  Russians." 

"  Some  manage  in  one  way  and  some  in  another," 
said  Sadik,  looking  around.  "You  should  find  out  if 
somebody  else  was  not  to  blame.  It  may  be  that  some- 
body found  it  to  his  advantage  to  yield  to  the  Russians." 

"Whom  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mat  Murad,  contract- 
ing his  brows. 

"  Not  you  —  where  are  your  eyes?  The  Russians  have 
paid  no  money  to  you  —  or  have  they  tried,  perhaps?" 
And  Sadik  gazed  straight  into  the  commander's  eyes, 
which  were  quickly  lowered. 

"  I  would  have  him  skinned  alive,"  shouted  Mat  Murad, 
"  if  I  knew  it  for  certain.  There  will  always  be  rumors 
current,  but  you  can  not  believe  them  all." 

"  Where  is  he  now? " 

"When  he  first  joined  us  he  camped  at  Sheik- Arik; 
then  he  came  this  way  by  the  Merv  road.  Now  he  is 
close  by." 

"  Does  he  not  come  here?  It  is  long  since  he  has 
shown  himself." 

"  A  long  time  —  it  almost  seems  as  if  he  was  purposely 
hiding  and  did  not  wish  to  come  under  our  eyes.  I  have 
sent  to  summon  him." 

"  It  is  evident  that  his  conscience  is  not  clear,"  broke 
in  Sadik.  "  That  is  why  he  hides." 


192  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  I  shall  catch  him  if  it  be  true  what  people  are  say- 
ing. I'd  impale  him  without  troubling-  the  Khan  about 
a  trial.  I  sent  him  word  the  other  day,  and  he  answered 
snappishly.  It  was  lucky  for  him  that  I  had  but  few 
people  with  me  then  and  he  a  great  many,  or  he  should 
have  spoken  to  me  in  another  tone!  " 

"  It  is  just  for  this  reason,"  said  Karim  Khodsha,  sen- 
tentiously,  "  because  you  are  all  trying  to  have  each 
other  impaled,  that  we  must  now  sue  the  Russians  for 
peace.  You  are  all  guilty  together.  You  yourselves 
let  your  passions  and  whims  hinder  us  from  accomplish- 
ing our  purpose.  Some  show  their  teeth  on  account  of 
old  quarrels,"  said  he,  glancing  at  Sadik.  "  You  can't 
agree  with  him,  and  you  threaten  him  with  the  stake. 
That  is  told  to  him,  and  draws  his  mind  from  the  com- 
mon cause.  Believe  me,  believe  the  word  of  Mat  Nias, 
any  kind  of  peace  with  the  Russians  is  better  than  final 
destruction  and  demoralization!  " 

"  That  is  an  old  song;  it  has  been  sung  to  us  before, 
and  resulted  not  in  our  way  but  in  their  way." 

"Let  us  see — " 

"It  is  all  right  for  you,"  said  Sadik;  "you  have  got 
yourself  into  no  special  trouble  with  anybody  —  it  is  all 
right  for  you.  If  we  make  peace  with  the  Russians, 
they  will  not  touch  you;  they  will  not  take  your  lands, 
your  gardens,  and  your  dwellings  from  you  —  you  will 
not  be  beggared.  You  will  live  as  you  did  before,  in 
comfort  and  quiet  —  only  your  power  will  not  be  as 
great  as  before.  It  is  all  right  for  you.  But  you  would 
make  me  lose  my  skin.  /  am  their  sworn  enemy,  and 
have  been  always.  If  I  fall  into  their  hands  I'll  not 
live  long.  Of  my  wealth  not  a  single  crumb  remains. 
Peace  with  the  Russians  is  not  to  my  mind;  it  is  all  the 
same  to  me  what  happens.  When  I  have  lost  my  troops, 


MAT  MURAD'S  HEADQUARTERS.  193 

and  I  am  alive,  I  shall  go  to  Merv,  to  the  Tekke,  to  wait 
and  watch  when  fortune  will  again  come  our  way. 
That  is  what  I  shall  do  —  I  have  spoken  truly!  " 

"Atam  Kul  does  not  think  the  same  as  you,"  said 
Mat  Murad.  "  The  white  blouses  will  probably  not  do 
him  any  further  injury;  they  do  not  seem  to  remem- 
ber a  fault  very  long." 

"  He  has  been  working  in  that  direction  for  a  long 
time;  but  he  is  cunning,  he  does  not  show  the  bent  of 
his  mind.  I  am  watching  him,  though,  the  runaway 
dog!  " 

"  And  what  is  your  last  word  for  Mat  Nias? "  said 
Karim  Khodsha,  rising  to  his  feet. 

"  The  same  as  ever."  Mat  Murad  turned  to  him  with- 
out rising.  "  But  tell  the  Khan  that  I  am  his  servant 
no  longer,  since  he  has  become  a  Russian  slave.  Tell 
him  that.  Do  not  change  or  soften  a  word  of  my  mes- 
sage. Do  you  hear? " 

"Lunatic!"  said  Karim  Khodsha,  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  and  walked  toward  the  gate.  There  his 
attendants  had  already  brought  his  horse,  a  tall  racer, 
covered  with  cloths  of  brilliant  colors,  and  with  bit  and 
bridle  richly  ornamented  with  tassels.  When  Karim 
Khodsha  mounted,  one  of  his  guards  held  his  stirrup 
while  another  assisted  the  old  man.  Adjusting  himself 
in  his  saddle,  he  pulled  back  the  bridle  until  the  horse 
rose  upon  its  haunches,  and  then  looked  again  at  Mat 
Murad,  as  if  to  request  of  him  by  a  glance  another 
last  decisive  word. 

"May  Allah  bless  your  road!  "  said  Murad,  not  with- 
out irony,  raising  his  hand. 

Karim  Khodsha  emerged  from  the  courtyard  sur- 
rounded by  his  suite.  The  horsemen  made  their  way 
with  difficulty  through  the  crowded  street,  but  when 


194  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

they  reached  the  highway  they  proceeded  at  a  rapid 
gait  in  the  direction  of  the  gardens  of  Khiva,  which 
were  rising  darkly  above  the  horizon. 

"  It  is  time  for  me  also!  "  said  Sadik,  rising  with  diffi- 
culty; and  placing  a  finger  against  his  lips  he  whistled 
loudly. 

Thus  whistle  the  horse-herders  when  they  wish  to 
make  the  whole  drove  start  at  once.  When  this  whistle 
resounds  over  the  steppe  the  horses  tremble,  prick  up 
their  ears,  and  begin  to  gather  in  groups,  as  if  fearing 
some  hidden  danger.  This  is  a  premonitory  whistle. 
Sadik's  whistle,  however,  was  answered  by  another  just 
without  the  gate,  then  by  another  farther  away,  and 
again  another  barely  audible  in  the  distance.  The 
Kirghiz  guarding  the  herd  began  to  contract  their  circle. 
The  bivouac  of  the  warriors  of  the  steppe  was  breaking 
up. 

"  Are  you  going  to  Merv? "  Mat  Murad  inquired,  with 
a  sneer. 

"No;  I  shall  yet  remain,"  Sadik  replied,  impudently. 
"  It  will  not  do  to  go  to  a  strange  land  with  empty 
hands.  I  still  hope  to  pick  up  something." 

"  Something  of  ours? " 

"  Whatever  turns  up.  Ask  Ata  Nazr  Khan  where  he 
loaded  up  forty-four  camels,  and  where  he  sent  them  to. 
Perhaps  something  may  be  left  for  me  in  that  neigh- 
borhood." 

"Did  you  see  them?"  angrily  asked  the  Turkoman. 
"  And  if  you  did,  do  not  tell  anybody  else  —  I  will  do  as 
much  for  you." 

"  All  my  affairs  you  may  proclaim  to  the  world.  I 
shall  go  to  Atam  Kul  and  consult  with  him.  We  are 
friends  now."  Sadik's  reply  was  tinged  with  bitter 
irony. 


LED    FORTH    TO    TESTIFY. 


MAT  MURAD'S  HEADQUARTERS.  195 

"  And  must  I  alone  await  the  Russians?  "  shouted  Mat 
Murad,  his  eyes  burning  with  rage  and  his  glossy  beard 
trembling  with  strong  emotion. 

"  Dispute  with  them  the  road,  keep  them  at  bay,  and 
we  will  strike  them  in  the  rear.  Haida!"  Sadik  bowed 
in  his  saddle,  plied  his  whip,  and  bounded  out  of  the 
gate. 

"  It  would  be  better  to  go  to  Khiva  than  to  stay  here," 
was  Ata  Nazr  Khan's  advice  to  Mat  Murad. 

"  Let  us  consider  a  little,"  said  the  Datkha,  rising 
from  his  seat.  "  See  there!  the  sun  is  setting  in  clouds 
and  fog,  but  do  you  know  how  it  will  rise  to-morrow? 
It  is  all  according  to  Allah's  will,  and  to  his  wrath  there 
will  be  an  end  sometime."  Mat  Murad  considered  long, 
gazing  at  the  crimson  evening  sky.  Blue  shadows  were 
spreading  from  walls  and  trees,  and  the  flames  of  the 
fires  under  the  shed  grew  brighter.  The  noise  of  the 
bivouac  was  subsiding,  and  the  freshness  of  the  night 
air  penetrated  the  double  wadded  and  quilted  cloak  of 
the  commander,  causing  him  to  shiver  slightly. 

Suddenly  two  shots  were  heard,  and  then  voices  full 
of  alarm  shouted,  "Who  is  this?"  "Catch  him!  stop 
him!"  "Cut  him  off  from  the  road!  "  "  He  can't  get 
away!"  "Hold  him!" 

These  were  the  cries  of  some  pursuers.  They  were 
coming  nearer  and  nearer. 


13 


196  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  HAREM  OF  MULLAH  ATAM  KUL. 

"  GOOD-DAY,"  said  Atam  Kul,  seizing  Natalia  Mar- 
tinovna  around  the  neck. 

She  did  not  return  the  greeting,  but  stood  like  a 
stone. 

One  of  the  natives  held  up  an  oiled  paper  lantern, 
pushing  it  almost  against  the  face  of  the  unfortunate 
woman. 

"  She  is  dead!  "  cried  the  renegade,  staggering  back. 

Natalia's  face  was  as  white  as  a  sheet,  the  eyes  were 
dumb  and  motionless,  the  mouth  stood  half-open  like 
that  of  a  corpse,  with  the  lower  jaw  pendent  as  if  the 
muscles  of  the  face  had  lost  all  control  over  its  move- 
ments. 

Her  breath  seemed  to  be  suspended.  It  was  a  real 
corpse,  but  an  uncanny  kind  of  a  corpse,  standing  upon 
its  feet  without  prop  or  assistance. 

A  terrible  fear  fell  upon  the  superstitious  savage. 
Atam  Kul  retreated  two  more  steps.  Natalia  began 
to  sway  as  soon  as  he  removed  his  hand  from  her 
shoulder. 

"That  is  nothing,"  fawned  the  Persian;  "that  will 
pass  away.  It  is  only  exhaustion.  We  have  traveled 
too  far.  She  is  all  right;  she  is  a  strong  woman  —  just 
like  a  native.  That  is  nothing!  " 

God  only  knows  what  took  place  in  the  soul  of  Atam 
Kul  at  that  moment.  He  retreated  still  farther  into 
the  darkness,  where  the  light  of  the  lantern  did  not  fall, 
and  turned  away.  "Take  her  into  the  house — there, 


THE  HAREM  OF  MULLAH  ATAM  KUL.         197 

with  the  others,"  he  said,  hoarsely;  "the  women  are 
there  —  take  her  to  them." 

The  dull  thud  of  a  falling-  body  forced  from  Atam 
Kul's  breast  a  hoarse,  savage  cry,  but  he  did  not  stir 
from  his  position,  trembling,  and  afraid  to  look  at  the 
fallen  one. 

"Take  her  away!  Carry  her  on  your  hands!"  he 
cried,  and  rushed  away  through  the  garden  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  building  occupied  by  his  native  followers, 
who  were  contentedly  gorging  themselves  with  a  stew 
of  fat  meat. 

The  Persian  and  one  other  man  lifted  Natalia  up 
and  carried  her  away.  In  the  darkness  it  was  difficult 
to  distinguish  anything  ahead  of  them,  but  the  Persian 
soon  struck  against  the  rough  surface  of  a  wall,  and 
moving  his  hand  along  it  until  he  felt  the  bolt  of  a 
wicket,  drew  it  and  passed  through,  after  which  the 
three  found  themselves  surrounded  by  still  more  impen- 
etrable darkness  —  even  the  stars  which  twinkled 
faintly  in  the  sky  had  disappeared.  They  were  under 
a  roof. 

"  Eh,  you  old  crow,  make  a  light!  Why  are  you  hid- 
ing?" shouted  the  Persian.  "  Quick!  Do  you  hear?" 

A  frightened  feminine  whisper  and  a  slight  rustling 
could  be  heard  in  a  corner. 

"  I'll  bring  a  lantern,"  said  one  of  the  men,  letting 
down  Natalia's  limbs  carefully  to  the  floor.  "  You'll 
not  get  them  to  move  in  a  hurry!  " 

A  reddish  spot  at  last  began  to  glimmer  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  above  it,  not  very  clearly  defined,  appeared 
the  outlines  of  dry  lips,  a  toothless  mouth,  and  the  end 
of  an  old  woman's  nose.  The  spark  began  to  grow  —  a 
dry  splinter  of  wood  began  to  smoke  and  crackle,  and 
at  last  blazed  up  brightly,  throwing  a  flickering,  fan- 


198  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

tastic  light  upon  the  surroundings.  It  was  the  interior 
of  a  dwelling,  somewhat  richly  decorated,  according  to 
the  local  ideas  of  luxury.  The  walls  were  smoothly 
plastered  with  alabaster  and  painted  in  fresco  patterns 
of  flowers  and  fanciful  leaves.  On  the  square-beamed 
ceiling  some  rough  gilding  glistened  in  the  uncertain 
light.  A  soft  felt-mat  covered  the  floor  of  the  dwelling, 
and  around  the  walls  bright-colored  carpets  and  wadded 
quilts  were  piled  up.  In  the  center  a  small  circular 
space  was  left  bare,  upon  which  a  few  cinders  were 
visible,  and  beside  it  lay  a  bundle  of  twigs  and  wisps  of 
straw.  Various  domestic  utensils  were  also  lying  about, 
with  remnants  of  a  supper,  and  a  tinned  copper  kettle 
with  tea.  The  mat  around  the  hearth  was  strewn  with 
well-gnawed  melon-rinds  and  the  husks  of  pistachio- 
nuts.  Some  unfinished  needlework  on  red  cloth  was 
also  lying  there,  and  a  young  kitten,  partly  entangled 
in  it,  was  peeping  out  from  under  its  folds  and  looking 
at  the  intruder,  blinking  its  greenish  eyes. 

There  were  three  women  in  the  biiilding  —  two  still 
young,  who  drew  their  grayish-blue  burnouses  over 
their  heads,  and  huddling  together  in  a  corner,  looked 
out  from  there  with  a  more  frightened  expression  than 
the  kitten;  and  an  old  woman,  homely,  with  yellow  com- 
plexion and  a  face  disfigured  by  smallpox  and  much 
wrinkled,  who  was  hurriedly  placing  a  piece  of  tallow 
candle  into  a  copper  candlestick.  She  did  not  progress 
very  satisfactorily  with  this  undertaking;  the  splinter 
of  wood,  being  nearly  consumed,  burned  her  fingers, 
while  the  candle  was  gliding  through  her  trembling 
hand. 

"Well,  here  is  the  lantern!  "  said  one  of  the  natives, 
entering  the  house  and  glancing  furtively  in  the 
direction  where  the  young  women  were  sitting.  "Ah! 


THE  HAREM  OF  MULLAH  ATAM  KUL.        199 

they  are  hiding,"  he  continued,  as  he  hung  the  lantern 
to  a  hook  near  the  door. 

"  Go  away,  go  away!  "  snarled  the  old  woman;  "  what 
are  you  looking  at?  It  is  against  the  law  for  you  to 
come  here.  Go!  What  do  these  strange  men  come 
here  for?  What  did  you  bring?  Who  gave  you  per- 
mission? " 

"  Wait;  let  me  look  a  little!  "  said  the  native,  jokingly. 

"No  looking  here;  I'll  tell  the  master  to-morrow. 
He'll  show  you  —  get  out!  " 

"  Why  should  I  go?  You  might  as  well  give  those  to 
us.  We  brought  a  new  one  for  him,  and  such  a  one 
that  after  this  he  will  not  look  at  such  carrion  as 
those!  " 

"You  are  carrion  yourself,  you  dead  dog!  "  replied 
one  of  the  women  in  a  loud  and  somewhat  shrill  voice. 

"Where  did  you  bring  her  from?"  inquired  the 
other. 

"  She  is  a  Russian.  We  did  not  take  her  —  she  came 
herself;  but  she  was  taken  ill  on  the  road.  Ah!  she  lies 
there  like  a  clod.  We  had  so  much  trouble  with  her  on 
the  road!  " 

"You've  done  a  great  deal,  indeed!"  grumbled  the 
Persian.  "  Go  away!  I  can  arrange  matters  here  with- 
out you.  It  may  be  that  he  will  come  back.  What  has 
become  of  him?  He  was  waiting,  and  then  wouldn't 
wait,  but  rushed  off  without  even  looking  at  her." 

"She  is  young!  "  muttered  the  old  woman,  who  had 
squatted  down  on  her  heels  and  was  looking  at  the  pros- 
trate form.  She  unceremoniously  turned  Natalia's 
face  to  the  light  and  began  feeling  her  breast,  shoulders, 
and  arms  with  her  claw-like  fingers.  "She  is  young  — 
not  old  at  all.  These  Russians  do  not  get  old  very 
quickly.  We  had  one  that  remained  a  good-looking 


200  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

woman  until  she  was  forty  years  of  age  —  always  good 
and  fresh,  while  ours  were  no  longer  worth  looking  at. 
They  almost  killed  her  from  envy." 

"  You  attend  to  her  properly,"  said  the  Persian. 
"  You  see  that  I  have  delivered  her  to  you  alive  —  look! 
she  is  breathing;  you  can  see  for  yourself.  To-morrow 
she  must  be  all  right.  Wash  her  and  dress  her  nicely, 
and  see  that  she  meets  Atam  Kul  properly  when  he 
comes.  Keep  her  quiet,  and  cover  her  with  something 
warm,  and  bathe  her  head  —  that  helps.  I'm  sorry  we 
have  no  Russian  whisky;  it  would  do  her  much  good,  I 
know.  Rub  her  heels  with  pepper  —  that  may  — " 

"Go  away!  go  away!  We  know  without  you  what 
should  be  done.  I  have  not  lived  sixty  years  in  this 
world  for  nothing!  Go  away,  and  tell  them  all  not  to 
touch  our  door  again;  they  give  us  no  rest,  the  hungry 
dogs!  I  shall  bolt  the  door  from  the  inside,  but  tell 
them,  anyhow.  Go  away  now!  " 

"  Well,  I  only  want  you  to  see  that  I  gave  her  to  you 
alive.  Remember  that! "  the  Persian  repeated  once 
more.  "  Good  health  to  you!  Good-by!  " 

"Go!" 

The  Persian  retreated  to  the  door,  threw  one  more 
glance  at  his  voluntary  captive,  and  left  the  building, 
slamming  the  narrow,  heavy  door,  studded  with  flat- 
headed  iron  nails  without  any  regard  for  symmetry  or 
pattern. 

The  women  now  remained  alone. 

The  men  had  scarcely  left  the  building,  and  the  old 
woman  had  barely  closed  and  bolted  the  door  behind 
them,  when  curiosity — the  ruling  passion  of  women, 
and  of  Asiatic  women  especially — seized  upon  both 
wives  of  Mullah  Atam  Kul. 


THE  HAREM  OF  MULLAH  ATAM  KUL.        201 

Cat-like,  with  a  single  bound,  they  sprang  to  Natalia's 
side  and  began  to  examine  her.  The  women  had  thrown 
off  their  wide  cloaks  and  remained  in  long  silken  shirts 
alone.  The  light  of  the  lantern  fell  brightly  upon  their 
somewhat  peculiar  features.  One  of  them,  who  had 
exchanged  courtesies  with  the  native,  was  a  Persian, 
tall  in  stature,  with  a  fine,  bold  physiognomy.  The 
large  black  eyes,  with  bluish  "  whites "  and  fringed 
with  long  lashes,  had  a  somewhat  savage  and  repelling 
look.  In  her  glance  two  prevailing  expressions  were 
always  interchanging  —  viciousness  and  slavish  fear. 
It  was  the  glance  of  a  dog  when  he  is  being  punished  by 
his  master's  hand  —  always  ready  to  bite  that  hand,  and 
only  awaiting  the  proper  minute,  while  fear  of  this 
same  hand  remains  uppermost  and  paralyzes  the  desire 
to  resist.  Traces  of  this  internal  struggle,  this  hesi- 
tation between  rage  and  fear,  can  be  discerned  in  his 
whining,  in  his  bark  —  now  fawning,  now  threatening. 

The  border  of  her  red  cap,  strung  with  metallic  pend- 
ants, fell  low  over  her  forehead,  almost  to  the  thick 
black  brows,  giving  to  the  whole  face  a  still  more  unin- 
viting aspect.  The  large  long  nose,  with  finely  cut, 
trembling  nostrils,  spoke  of  slyness  and  cunning,  even 
while  a  pleasant  and  sympathetic  smile  played  around 
the  mouth.  Even  the  blackened  teeth  did  not  disfig- 
ure this  mouth,  in  nowise  spoiling  its  graceful  lines. 
Her  black  hair  hung  down  from  under  her  cap,  covered 
with  metallic  chain  ornaments  and  jingling  at  every 
motion  made  by  the  woman.  Massive  pendants, 
reaching  to  her  shoulders,  were  inserted  in  her  ears, 
and  around  her  neck  shone  and  sparkled  several  rows 
of  glass  beads.  The  whole  bosom  of  her  red  shirt  was 
ornamented  with  gold  and  silver  coins,  arranged  in  an 
original  and  rather  tasteful  pattern.  Her  long  slender 


202  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

fingers  were  studded  with  rings,  set  chiefly  with  tur- 
quoises and  carnelians;  the  finger-nails  were  dyed  as 
well  as  the  teeth,  not  black,  however,  but  a  bright 
blood-red. 

The  Persian  girl  was  still  young;  perhaps  seventeen, 
no  more.  Her  shirt,  or  blouse,  unconfined  by  any  belt, 
displayed  a  firm  and  elastic  figure.  She  was  the  favor- 
ite wife  of  Mullah  Atam  Kul;  hence  it  will  be  easily 
understood  with  what  feelings  of  fear  and  jealousy  she 
now  looked  upon  her  new  rival  lying  there  prostrate 
before  her.  She  was  drawing  comparisons  between 
herself  and  the  new  arrival,  examining  every  feature 
and  endeavoring  to  discover  something  that  might  be 
counted  in  her  favor.  Evidently  she  was  not  very  well 
satisfied  with  the  result  of  this  comparison.  Above  all, 
displeased  her  the  long,  silky,  light-auburn  hair  of 
Natalia,  which  shone  in  the  lantern's  light  with  a  pe- 
culiar luster.  She  let  the  hair  pass  through  her  fingers, 
weighed  it  in  her  hand  and  measured  its  length,  but 
suddenly  she  broke  into  a  disdainful  laugh.  The  sharp 
eyes  of  a  jealous  rival  had  discovered  a  gray  hair 
among  these  shining  locks,  and  this  discovery  had 
aroused  her  to  an  open  expression  of  her  joy. 

"Now,  what  is  that  Persian  mare  snorting  about?" 
snarled  the  old  woman.  "  Be  still!  I'll  give  it  to 
you! " 

"I'll  strike  you!  Look  here!  "  the  Persian  replied, 
with  flashing  eyes,  but  retreating  a  little  and  saying 
not  another  word. 

"  'Sh!  you  noisy  one!  "  scolded  the  old  woman,  pour- 
ing some  water  out  of  a  jar  into  a  shallow  dish.  "  Hang 
a  mat  before  the  door.  Somebody  might  come  around 
spying  again.  I  thought  I  heard  a  step  just  now." 

The  other  wife  of  Mullah  Atam  Kul  was  a  Kirghiz 


THE  HAREM  OF  MULLAH  ATAM  KUL.        203 

woman.  It  was  only  necessary  to  glance  at  her  prom- 
inent cheek-bones,  at  those  narrow,  furtive,  oblique 
eyes  and  the  strong  yellow  teeth,  to  dispel  all  doubts 
as  to  her  origin.  The  head  of  this  daughter  of  the 
steppe  was  covered  with  a  huge  white  turban  (djav- 
luk),  the  ends  of  which,  hanging  down  over  her  shoul- 
ders, were  embroidered  with  gold  thread.  She  was  a 
stout,  robust  woman,  and  her  thin  tunic  fitted  closely  to 
her  massive  rotund  figure. 

Having  satisfied  her  curiosity,  the  Kirghiz  woman 
cheerfully  began  to  assist  the  old  hag  in  attending  to 
the  patient.  She  wetted  the  end  of  a  towel  in  water 
and  vinegar,  loosened  Natalia's  belt,  drew  the  heavy 
man's  boots  from  her  feet,  and  raised  her  head,  placing 
under  it  a  long  cylindrical  pillow.  During  these  kindly 
ministrations  she  impressed  several  kisses  upon  the  un- 
conscious form,  and  moved  the  kettle  nearer  to  the  fire, 
in  order  to  let  Natalia  have  some  hot  tea  when  she  recov- 
ered from  her  swoon.  Only  she  and  the  old  hag  did 
anything  for  the  Russian  woman;  the  Persian  in  the 
meantime,  having  completed  her  inspection,  seated 
herself  once  more  against  the  wall,  folding  her  arms 
around  her  knees  and  resting  her  chin  upon  the  latter. 

In  the  soul  of  the  Kirghiz  woman  jealousy  had  been 
ignited  only  for  a  moment,  and  quickly  subsided  as 
soon  as  she  looked  upon  the  features  of  the  new  wife 
of  Mullah  Atam  Kul  —  features,  though  then  lifeless, 
so  full  of  weariness,  sadness,  and  the  profoundest 
misery. 

They  disrobed  Natalia  completely,  bathing  her  whole 
body  with  tepid  water  and  vinegar,  and  then  covered 
her  up  with  a  wadded  quilt. 

"She  has  some  life  in  her  now!  "  chattered  the  old 
woman.  "  She  is  no  longer  dead.  Death  has  gone  out 


204  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

and  sleep  has  come  in  his  place.  See  how  nicely  she 
breathes.  She  sleeps.  Well,  let  her  sleep;  later  on  I 
will  wake  her  and  dress  her.  I  know  when  that  must  be. 
To-morrow  she  will  te  quite  well,  and  the  Mullah  will 
make  me  a  present  —  and  to  you  also,  Aibulgan,  but 
not  to  you  over  there,  who  did  nothing-,  but  only  sat 
and  looked  at  us  two  working! "  The  old  woman 
glanced  angrily  in  the  direction  where  the  Persian  was 
seated. 

"  Djellie  worked  also,"  said  the  Kirghiz  woman  in  de- 
fense of  her  companion.  "  She  bathed  her  head;  I  saw 
it  myself." 

"  But  I  heard  what  she  whispered  while  she  was 
doing  it.  If  I  were  to  hint  a  word  of  it  to  our  master 
he  would  not  let  her  live;  he  would  order  her  to  be 
killed.  I  heard  her." 

"What  did  you  hear? "  calmly  asked  the  Persian. 

"  I  heard  what  I  heard." 

"  What  did  I  say? " 

"  '  Her  throat  ought  to  be  squeezed  so  tightly  that  she 
would  not  come  to  again! '  that  is  what  you  said.  Isn't 
that  it?  I  am  old,  but  I  can  still  hear." 

"  And  what  of  that!  I  tell  Atam  Kul  himself  any- 
thing that  comes  into  my  head.  He  loves  me;  he  told 
me  only  yesterday  that  there  is  not  a  better  woman  in 
the  world  than  I  am.  Let  us  see  who  will  be  on  top, 
I  or  she.  We'll  see.  Ai'bulgan  is  all  right  —  he  only 
looks  upon  her  once  in  awhile;  it  is  all  the  same  to 
her." 

"Silence,  you  long-nosed  crow  —  you  slave!  "  Ai'bul- 
gan turned  upon  the  Persian. 

"  You  are  without  nose  —  it  is  set  in  the  middle  of 
your  face  like  a  button;  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  but 
cheek-bones  and  teeth." 


THE  HAREM  OF  MULLAH  ATAM  KUL.        205 

"Look  out  that  those  teeth  don't  fasten  upon  you!" 
shrieked  the  Kirghiz  woman. 

"  Quiet  there!  "  cried  the  old  woman;  "  what  are  you 
bawling  about?  Are  you  going  to  fight  again  as  you 
did  in  the  morning?  Your  last  scratches  are  not  healed 
yet.  Silence! " 

This  exhortation  somewhat  quieted  the  enraged 
women  and  prevented  for  this  time  a  fight  such  as  are 
of  common  occurrence  in  harem  life. 

Natalia  Martinovna  stirred  and  groaned  in  her  sleep. 
"What!  have  you  awakened  her,  you  vermin?  It  is 
necessary  that  she  should  sleep  now,  and  you  are 
making  a  noise.  Be  quiet  —  she  may  go  to  sleep  again 
—  sits  till!" 

"Tell  us  a  story,"  proposed  Ai'bulgan,  who  at  once 
quieted  down,  "and  we  will  sit  and  listen." 

"You  just  wait!  "  threatened  the  willful  and  vicious 
Djellie. 

"Well,  then,  listen!  "  said  the  old  woman,  bending 
once  more  over  the  face  of  the  sleeper  and  listening; 
then  she  coughed,  expectorated,  and  began  in  a  low 
voice,  almost  a  whisper.  Both  the  listeners  drew 
nearer.  The  old  woman  went  on,  in  a  monotonous, 
droning  tone.  Ai'bulgan,  having  already  forgotten  her 
quarrel,  laid  her  head  upon  the  Persian's  knee;  the 
latter  lowered  her  eyes  and  sat  motionless,  winding  the 
ends  of  her  tresses  around  her  fingers.  The  coins  upon 
her  bosom  scarcely  rose  with  her  breath.  A  few  noc- 
turnal flies  and  moths  circled  around  the  lantern,  occa- 
sionally striking  against  its  oiled  paper  sides. 

In  a  corner  of  the  room  something  was  breathing 
calmly,  invisible  behind  the  piled  carpets  and  large 
silken  cushions. 

The  old  woman  began  her  tale.     The  story  was  a 


206  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

long  one,  describing  the  doings  and  intrigues  of  a  com- 
munity of  women  governed  by  a  female  Khan.  The 
plot  hinged  upon  a  conflict  between  ambition  and  a 
mother's  love,  in  which  the  latter  conquered. 

"Yes,  that  is  what  it  means  to  be  a  mother!  "  added 
the  aged  story-teller,  not  in  the  monotonous,  sing-song 
tone  she  employed  for  the  tale,  but  in  her  natural 
voice.  "  Well,  I  have  finished  my  story.  How  did  you 
like  it?  'Sh  —  be  quiet;  I  believe  our  patient  is  awake." 

Natalia  Martinovna  had  opened  her  eyes  some  time 
before,  looking  at  her  unfamiliar  surroundings.  At  this 
moment  she  was  leaning  upon  her  elbow,  pushing  the 
strands  of  hair  away  from  her  forehead,  and  sighing 
deeply.  All  at  once,  over  there  in  the  corner  where 
the  fringed  carpets  and  cushions  were  piled  up,  some 
small  creature  also  sighed,  opened  wide  its  eyes,  and 
gave  vent  to  the  plaintive  and  soul-stirring  cry  of  a 
child. 

"  Mama,  mama!  "  Nobody  knew  at  first  what  was 
happening.  Natalia  sprang  to  her  feet,  trembling  all 
over,  then  rushed  into  the  corner.  Small  arms  clasped 
her  around  the  neck,  a  small  flushed  face  was  caress- 
ingly rubbing  against  her  own  —  the  mother  had  found 
her  son. 

Then  Djellie,  the  Persian,  and  Ai'bulgan,  and  the  old 
story-teller  understood  what  was  happening  in  their 
dwelling.  The  old  woman's  mouth  broadened  into  a 
good-natured,  toothless  smile.  As  she  looked  at  the 
Russian  woman,  her  tongue  almost  unconsciously 
repeated  the  closing  words  of  her  story,  "  That  is 
what  it  means  to  be  a  mother!  " 

Djellie  bent  over  into  the  corner  and  leaned  her  face 
against  the  wall,  without  once  turning  around;  her 
shoulders  and  arms  down  to  the  elbows  were  shaking 


PROVIDENCE.  207 

convulsively,  and  at  every  tremor  the  coins  sewed  upon 
her  shirt  gave  forth  a  silvery  jingle. 

A'ibulgan  fell  at  Natalia's  feet,  embracing  them 
ardently,  and  pressing  her  thick  lips  upon  them,  the 
noisy  kisses  of  the  soft-hearted  Kirghiz  woman  resound- 
ing through  the  room. 

Dawn  was  breaking.  The  golden  light  of  morning 
invaded  the  dwelling  through  the  cracks  of  the  door, 
and  through  the  panes  of  oiled  paper  with  which  the 
upper  window-frames  were  fitted. 

People  were  moving  and  tramping  about  in  court- 
yard and  gardens.  The  vicious  stallions  neighed  and 
snorted  as  they  were  led  to  the  morning  watering. 

"Eh!  you  women  —  get  ready!"  came  through  the 
door  of  the  harem  in  the  Persian's  voice.  "  Mullah 
Atam  Kul  is  coming  —  withdraw  the  bolts,  quickly!  " 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

PROVIDENCE. 

THE  door  of  the  women's  house  opened  wide.  The 
morning  sun  illuminated  brightly  with  its  golden  rays 
the  garden  adjoining  the  harem.  The  emerald-green 
foliage  of  the  grape-vines  was  gorgeously  hung  with 
trembling  drops  of  dew,  which  the  young  sun  had  not 
yet  succeeded  in  drinking  up.  From  behind  the  grape- 
vines and  beyond  the  dense  screen  of  green  arose  the 
gray  pillars  of  poplars,  and  behind  these  again  darker 
masses  of  luxuriant  plantains  could  be  seen,  giving  a 


208  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

view  of  the  opposite  wall  only  here  and  there  through 
breaks  in  the  foliage. 

A  brisk  morning  breeze  was  blowing  in  through  the 
door,  freshening  the  close,  sultry  atmosphere  in  the 
interior  of  the  building.  At  first  the  inmates  with 
undisguised  delight  inhaled  the  fresh  air  into  their  lungs, 
and  Natalia  also  became  aware  of  its  beneficial  effect 
upon  her  debilitated  system.  She  felt  renewed  courage 
and  strength  —  qualities  most  necessary  to  her  at  the 
present  moment. 

All  shnt  their  dazzled  eyes  before  the  shining 
square  of  light  caused  by  the  open  door,  when  the  black 
shadow  of  a  colossal  round-shouldered  figure  suddenly 
appeared  in  bold  relief  upon  the  illuminated  surface. 
A  huge  turban  and  a  wide  cloak,  unconfined  by  belt  or 
girdle,  apparently  enlarged  still  more  the  visitor's 
dimensions.  Behind  him  two  or  three  other  dark 
countenances  were  visible,  and  the  bright  barrels  of 
flint-lock  muskets,  provided  with  "rests,"  loomed  up 
among  them,  together  with  the  high  black  sheepskin 
caps  of  the  Turkomans  set  upon  close-cropped  heads  at 
various  angles.  The  sound  of  conversation  could  be 
heard  through  the  door. 

But  the  door  was  closed  again,  and  all  was  dark  and 
quiet  once  more  within  the  female  apartments  of  the 
dwelling  —  the  darkness  appearing  much  denser  and 
more  impenetrable  after  the  brief  flash  of  light  caused 
by  the  opening  of  the  door. 

Atam  Kul  himself  closed  the  door  behind  him  and 
bolted  it;  leaving  his  suite  and  even  his  most  devoted 
follower,  the  Persian,  in  the  courtyard,  he  entered  the 
building  alone.  For  a  few  moments  he  was  unable  to 
distinguish  anything,  and  stood  upon  the  threshold,  but 
soon  his  eye  became  accustomed  to  the  red,  somber 


PROVIDENCE.  209 

light  which  filtered  through  the  oiled  paper  window 
over  the  door,  and  from  a  smoke-obscured  opening  in 
one  corner,  under  the  roof,  and  he  was  enabled  to  dis- 
tinguish the  figures  of  women  present  in  the  building. 
At  the  first  sound  of  men's  voices  A'ibulgan  had  fled 
to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room,  turned  away  her 
face  and  covered  it  with  her  cloak,  drawing  it  up  even 
over  her  turban  and  leaving  nothing  of  herself  to  be 
seen  but  an  indistinct,  unshapely  mass. 

Djellie,  with  a  rapid  but  graceful  movement,  stretched 
herself  out  at  full  length,  designedly  tearing  the  front 
of  her  shirt  so  as  to  expose  half  of  her  bosom,  and 
thus  lay  upon  the  carpet  with  both  hands  under  her 
head.  The  pose  thus  assumed  was  both  effective  and 
beautiful,  and  worthy  of  the  trained  coquette  of  an 
Asiatic  harem. 

The  old  woman  sat  down  in  half-concealment  beside 
the  door,  trembling  like  a  dog  under  the  stick  suspended 
threateningly  over  its  head,  and  blinking  her  tearful 
eyes,  looked  straight  into  Atam  Kill's  face.  Her  timid, 
slavish  air  betrayed  her  anxiety  not  only  to  obey  but  to 
anticipate  the  slightest  wish  or  hint  of  her  dreaded 
master.  The  woman's  whole  soul  was  animated  by  the 
one  instinct  of  ascertaining  his  wishes  and  whims  and 
to  see  to  their  immediate  execution. 

Natalia,  raising  her  head,  perceived  the  dark  massive 
figure  towering  in  the  lighted  square  of  the  door,  and 
instinctively  pressed  the  boy,  who  was  crying  and 
trembling  nervously,  to  her  breast  with  firmer  press- 
ure. At  that  moment  she  experienced  within  herself 
such  a  revival  of  moral  power,  such  courage,  that  she 
felt  equal  for  a  struggle  no  matter  how  great  the  dis- 
parity of  forces.  She  even  looked  down  with  the  con- 
tempt of  the  stronger  for  the  weaker  upon  the  man 


210  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

who  was  the  cause  of  her  sufferings  and  grief,  and  in 
whose  full  power  she  now  found  herself. 

"You  all  go  away!  "  said  Mullah  Atam  Kul,  stepping 
forward.  He  placed  his  hand  upon  Natalia  Martin- 
ovna's  shoulder,  and  even  set  one  foot  upon  her  trail- 
ing cloak,  as  if  to  indicate  by  these  motions  that  his 
command  did  not  refer  to  her,  but  only  to  the  other 
three  women. 

The  old  story-teller  slipped  across  to  the  opposite 
wall  and  began  to  hurriedly  unfasten  a  little  door  lead- 
ing to  the  second  and  inner  court  of  the  women's 
apartments.  Ai'bulgan  crept  along  the  wall  without 
raising  her  face,  and  was  the  first  to  run  out  when  the 
door  was  opened.  Djellie  did  not  stir  from  her  position. 
She  stretched  herself  indolently  and  yawned,  casting 
upon  Atam  Kul  a  long  look  expressive  of  the  most 
nai've  want  of  comprehension  as  to  what  was  going  on 
before  her.  She  even  smiled,  and  was  about  to  say 
something,  probably  to  ask  for  an  explanation,  when 
the  renegade  repeated,  sternly: 

"  You  also  must  go!  " 

The  Persian  again  smiled,  and  emphatically  shook  her 
head. 

"Well?"  repeated  Atam  Kul. 

Djellie  rose  slowly  to  her  feet,  and  after  stretching 
herself  again  while  standing  up,  and  by  this  pose  dis- 
playing the  beautiful  proportions  of  her  young  body, 
and  causing  her  metal  ornaments  to  tinkle  melodiously, 
she  advanced  toward  Atam  Kul,  who  receded  a  few 
paces. 

"What!  Do  you  want  to  replace  me  by  that  one?" 
inquired  Djellie,  pointing  at  the  Russian  woman. 

"Away!"  shouted  the  renegade,  snatching  a  whip 
from  his  girdle  and  raising  it  threateningly. 


JUDGMENT   AND    PUNISHMENT. 


PROVIDENCE.  211 

Behind  the  interior  door  a  slight  exclamation  burst 
from  the  lips  of  Ai'bulgan,  who  had  been  listening. 
The  Persian  did  not  tremble,  but  quickly  raised  her 
hands  before  her  face,  to  protect  it  against  the  impend- 
ing stroke/ 

"It  is  well!"  she  said;  "but  remember,  when  you 
come  to  me  —  and  I  know  it  will  be  soon,  perhaps 
to-day  —  then  I  shall  say  to  you,  'Away! '  You  may  order 
me  to  be  cut  down —  I  know  that  is  in  your  power,  but 
while  I  am  alive  Djellie  will  no  longer  be  your  wife 
unless  she  is  tied  hand  and  foot.  And  you  remember, 
also,"  she  continued,  addressing  Natalia  Martinovna, 
"  though  you  may  not  be  his  by  your  own  will,  I  shall 
never  forgive  you.  Remember  that!  "  The  Persian 
slowly  glided  to  the  door,  and  stopping  for  a  moment 
upon  the  threshold,  she.  laughed  loudly,  and  then 
slammed  the  door  behind  her  and  latched  it. 

Atam  Kul  and  Natalia  remained  —  not  altogether 
alone,  however;  the  little  boy  was  between  them.  The 
two-legged  wolf  now  stood  before  her  without  speaking. 
He  did  not  know  what  to  say,  how  to  begin,  or  how  to 
proceed  in  this  affair.  The  savage  was  nonplused  for 
the  moment,  and  only  mechanically  pressed  in  his  hands 
the  heavy  handle  of  his  whip,  scowling  in  the  meantime 
from  under  his  brows,  now  at  the  door  through  which 
Djellie  had  disappeared,  now  at  his  voluntary  captive. 

Petka  glanced  at  Atam  Kul  through  his  outspread 
ringers.  He  had  accommodated  himself  to  a  certain 
extent  to  his  new  circumstances,  and  become  familiar 
with  the  new  face  of  this  pirate  of  the  steppes,  who 
had  caressed  him  so  often,  especially  during  the  last 
few  days,  and  not  fully  understanding  what  had  just 
occurred  before  his  eyes,  he  had  thus  far  looked  on  with 
perfect  equanimity.  The  moment,  however,  the  whip 

14 


212  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

was  raised  the  boy's  whole  body  began  to  tremble,  and 
he  nestled  more  closely  into  his  mother's  bosom.  He 
speedily  discovered  that  the  stroke  was  not  intended  for 
him  and  became  reassured. 

"Good-day!  "  Atam  Kul  began  once  more* 

"  I  have  come,"  Natalia  replied,  in  a  faint,  scarcely 
audible  voice. 

The  renegade  seated  himself  heavily  upon  the  carpet, 
his  hands  almost  touching  the  dress  of  Natalia,  who 
withdrew  her  garments  from  his  reach. 

"Why?"  he  asked,  in  a  hoarse  voice,  throwing  a  fur- 
tive glance  at  her.  Atam  Kul's  eyes  gleamed  like  live 
coals;  a  nervous  excitement  seized  him.  He  quickly 
moved  nearer  to  Natalia  and  seized  her  with  both 
hands.  At  that  moment  he  felt  only  a  burning,  insatia- 
ble passion.  If  a  knife  had  then  been  thrust  into  his 
breast  he  would  not  have  felt  it  —  he  would  not  have 
heeded  the  sharp  point  piercing  his  vitals.  The  child 
was  between  them;  Atam  Kul  thrust  him  aside  with 
one  powerful  hand,  and  Petka  rolled  like  a  ball  over  the 
carpet,  terror  preventing  him  from  making  an  outcry. 

"You  cursed  beast!"  Natalia  cried,  savagely,  rush- 
ing forward  to  pick  up  the  boy.  Behind  the  door  the 
loud  laugh  of  the  Persian  was  heard  again. 

"Hey!"  yelled  the  renegade,  and  the  old  woman, 
thinking  that  the  shout  must  be  intended  for  her, 
entered  the  room.  She  knew  what  kind  of  services  her 
master  would  demand  of  her. 

"  Take  her  away,  take  her!  "  cried  Atam  Kul;  "but 
place  this  puppy  in  a  sack  and  throw  it  into  the  water." 

The  old  woman  sprang  across  the  floor  with  the 
agility  of  a  cat  and  caught  hold  of  Natalia  Martinovna. 
She  seized  her  elbows  from  behind,  and  endeavored  to 
place  her  upon  her  back. 


PROVIDENCE.  213 

"  I  have  come  to  you,"  gasped  the  unfortunate 
woman,  full  of  terror  and  desperation.  "  I  came  to 
you  of  my  own  will  —  why  will  you  use  violence?  You 
called  me  to  give  me  back  my  son.  Drown  him?  You 
would  drown  Petka?  I  will  suffer  death  before  you 
touch  him!  He  is  not  yours;  he  is  mine.  If  you  kill 
him,  you  kill  me.  Do  you  wish  for  my  death?  "  She 
tore  herself  from  the  old  woman's  hands  and  threw 
herself  down  before  Atam  Kul.  She  even  raised  her 
arms  as  if  about  to  place  them  around  his  neck. 

"You  just  wait,  you  Russian  slut!"  came  from 
behind  the  inner  door.  Almost  simultaneously 
alarmed  voices  shouted  at  the  opposite  entrance. 

"Mullah!  Hey!  Taksir!  Mullah  Atam  Kul !"  The 
snorting  of  horses  and  the  stamp  of  iron-shod  hoofs 
were  plainly  heard  as  if  the  whole  garden  was  filled 
with  horsemen.  Atam  Kul  could  hear  the  voices  of 
his  own  men  and  those  of  strangers.  The  voice  of  Mat 
Murad  sounded  above  them  all  —  the  commander 
was  issuing  clear  and  distinct  orders  to  his  followers. 

"  Look  well  over  there,  that  he  may  not  escape  over 
the  wall.  Break  in  the  door  if  he  does  not  open.  I've 
got  you  at  last,  you  run  away  dog!  The  'double- 
tongue  '  spoke  once  too  often." 

Atam  Kul  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of  these 
orders,  but  he  scented  an  enemy,  a  terrible  enemy,  and 
felt  himself  in  mortal  danger  without  knowing  its 
origin.  The  door  began  to  yield  before  the  pressure  of 
a  dozen  shoulders,  the  hinges  broke  from  their  fasten- 
ings, and  a  crowd  surged  into  the  building.  The  rene- 
gade drew  a  knife  and  threw  himself  against  the  other 
door,  but  it  had  been  firmly  fastened  on  the  other  side. 
Again  he  heard  the  Persian  woman's  vicious  laugh  and 
her  mocking  voice  in  broken  phrases.  "  No,  you  will  not 


214  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

get  through  here.  I  am  guarding  this  outlet.  Come  here, 
you  men!  "  she  cried,  louder,  "or he  will  break  out  yet." 

The  house  now  was  filled  with  men;  they  snatched 
the  knife  out  of  Atam  Kul's  hand,  threw  him  down 
and  bound  him.  Then  they  lifted  him  up  and  carried 
him  into  the  presence  of  Mat  Murad,  who  was  seated 
upon  his  horse  in  the  center  of  the  court,  gazing  from 
under  his  wide  turban  straight  into  his  captive's  eyes 
with  an  evil,  triumphant  smile. 

No  attention  was  at  the  time  paid  to  Natalia  Martin- 
ovna,  who  had  hidden  herself  and  her  child  in  a  corner 
of  the  room,  among  the  cushions. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

DOSTCHAK    TURNS    UP    AGAIN. 

SADIK  and  his  band  of  Kirghiz  had  only  just  taken 
their  departure  from  Mat  Murad's  headquarters  and 
turned  into  the  road  to  Khazar-Asp,  when,  within  a 
mile  of  the  hamlet,  they  encountered  a  horseman  of 
very  suspicious  appearance.  He  was  a  Kirghiz  also, 
and  was  proceeding  at  a  moderate  gallop  from  the 
direction  from  which  the  Russians  were  expected.  The 
man's  horse  was  still  fresh,  and,  to  judge  from  its  con- 
dition, the  traveler  must  have  left  his  last  resting-place 
but  a  short  time  ago.  The  rider  was  clad  in  Kirghiz 
fashion,  but  his  horse  bore  a  Russian  saddle  and  bridle 
—  the  former  partially  concealed  by  a  striped  horse- 
cloth, which  circumstance  rather  increased  the  suspicions 
aroused  by  the  man's  appearance. 


DOSTCHAK    TURNS    UP    AGAIN.  215 

The  strange  horseman  no  sooner  caught  sight  of  the 
advancing  column  of  mounted  men  when  he  turned 
aside,  striving  to  hide  behind  the  walls  of  a  roadside 
dwelling.  All  saw  how  hurriedly  he  endeavored  to 
execute  this  maneuver  and  how  desperately  he  plied  the 
whip  upon  his  horse's  sides  as  he  forced  it  to  jump  the 
wide  irrigating  ditch  lining  the  road.  He  seemed  to 
look  full  of  terror  upon  the  approaching  force,  and  even 
raised  one  hand  to  the  gun  which  was  hanging  over  his 
shoulders,  as  if  preparing  to  make  use  of  his  weapon. 

Nobody  waited  for  any  order  from  Sadik,  who  did 
not  have  time  to  open  his  mouth  before,  with  a  yell,  his 
men  were  scattering  to  the  right  and  left  in  pursuit, 
taking  every  possible  measure  not  to  lose  sight  of  the 
man  who  was  trying  to  hide.  The  hunt  for  the  sus- 
picious horseman  was  soon  in  full  cry. 

In  a  few  moments  he  made  his  appearance  again 
among  the  trees,  and  then,  finding  himself  so  actively 
pursued,  he  turned  and  stood  at  bay.  In  a  moment  he 
was  the  center  of  a  half-circle,  and  there  remained  to 
him  only  one  line  of  retreat  —  back  in  the  direction  he 
had  come  from.  The  pursued  seemed  to  hesitate,  how- 
ever, and  suddenly,  observing  a  somewhat  wider  inter- 
val between  two  of  the  horsemen  closing  in  upon  him, 
he  boldly  spurred  his  horse  in  that  direction  without 
seemingly  paying  the  slightest  attention  to  the  obsta- 
cles in  his  way.  It  was  at  that  moment  that  the  cries 
of  "  Catch  him!  hold  him!  "  were  raised  which  alarmed 
the  people  assembled  at  Mat  Murad's  headquarters. 

The  horseman  broke  through  the  lines  of  his  oppo- 
nents, and,  having  a  better  animal,  was  leaving  them 
behind,  when  Sadik  brought  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder, 
and  waiting  until  the  fugitive  reached  an  open  spot, 
aimed  and  fired.  A  few  other  bullets  were  sent  in  the 


216  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

same  direction.  The  horse  screamed  in  agony  and  fell 
with  a  crash,  sending  the  rider  over  its  head.  He  had 
not  time  to  make  an  outcry  or  to  get  upon  his  feet 
before  he  felt  himself  completely  enveloped  in  the  coils 
of  a  rope.  He  was  caught. 

One  of  the  Kirghiz,  looking  upon  the  dusty  face  cov- 
ered with  sweat,  at  once  recognized  the  captive  as  old 
Dostchak  from  the  Russian  camp. 

"  Well,  yes,  I  am  Dostchak,"  the  latter  acknowledged 
at  once.  "  Who  else  should  I  be?  " 

When  Sadik  came  up  an  examination  was  at  once 
begun. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE  GENERAL'S  LETTER. 

"WHERE  do  you  come  from?"  was  the  first  question 
addressed  by  Sadik  to  his  captive  countryman. 

"  I?  Where  I  come  from? "  repeated  Dostchak,  glanc- 
ing around  in  various  directions  as  if  searching  for 
somebody  in  that  crowd  of  armed  men  that  surrounded 
him  in  a  close,  impenetrable  circle.  A  majority  of  the 
men  were  looking  upon  the  prisoner  only  with  a  feeling 
of  lively  curiosity — a  common  quality  of  all  Asiatics. 
Sadik  alone  inspected  the  native  carefully  from  head 
to  foot,  and  with  special  suspicion  glanced  at  the  strap 
of  a  wallet  hidden  in  the  folds  of  Dostchak's  cloak. 
The  strap  formed  a  loop  around  his  neck,  and  only  a 
corner  of  the  receptacle  protruded  beyond  the  wide 
border  of  his  striped  cloak  of  cotton  cloth. 

"Well,  speak!  "  shouted  the   warrior  of  the  steppe, 


THE  GENERAL'S  LETTER.  217 

"  or  I  will  loosen  your  tongue,  or  tear  it  out  by  the 
roots!  " 

"  Where  I  came  from,  there  I  am  not  now;  and  I  did 
not  come  to  you,  but  to  Mullah  Atam  Kul.  Now  you 
know!  You  have  seized  me  and  detained  me,  and  the 
Mullah  will  be  angry." 

"  And  what  is  that  you  have  there? "  asked  Sadik, 
laying  his  hand  upon  the  corner  of  the  wallet,  while 
Dostchak  drew  back  and  tried  to  hide  it.  His  hands 
were  seized,  and  after  a  brief  struggle  the  strap  around 
his  neck  was  broken  and  the  wallet  taken  from  him. 

"Oh,  how  savage  they  are!"  grinned  Dostchak. 
"Well,  it  was  taken  by  force,  and  it's  not  my  fault; 
you  must  let  Atam  Kul  know  that." 

They  tore  open  the  wallet  and  abstracted  from  it  a 
large  paper  package,  and  removing  its  wrappings 
began  to  examine  the  writing. 

"  It  is  in  Russian;  I  do  not  understand  it,"  said  Sadik. 
"  Mount  your  horses  and  let  us  go  back.  Mat  Murad 
has  a  learned  man;  he'll  make  it  out.  Hai'da!  Keep  a 
good  hold  of  him;  drive  him  on  foot  between  two 
horses,  that  he  may  not  get  away,  the  dog!  Whoever 
serves  a  dog  will  have  a  dog's  death.  Move  on!  " 

"Just  wait  a  little  with  your  threats  of  death!  "  Dost- 
chak replied,  cheerfully;  "perhaps  you  may  yet  give 
thanks  to  old  Dostchak,  and  present  him  with  a  new 
silk  cloak  and  a  horse." 

"  Oh,  what  a  man  —  to  talk  of  cloaks! "  observed  one  of 
the  natives,  laughing.  "Goon!  It  seems  you  are  not 
accustomed  to  running  on  afoot  after  horses." 

"  Not  far,"  the  other  replied,  smiling. 

"  There  is  Mat  Murad  himself,  coming  to  meet  us. 
Hey  there,  clear  the  road!  " 

The  "  learned  man  "  was  found  in  Mat  Murad's  suite, 


218  THE    TWO-LEGGEU    WOLF. 

and  the  letter  that  had  been  concealed  in  Dostchak's 
satchel  was  laid  before  him. 

"What  did  I  say?"  asked  Dostchak,  with  a  malicious 
smile.  "  I  was  telling  the  truth,  but  you  would  not 
believe  me." 

"  The  cursed  double-souled,  double-tongued  dog! " 
exclaimed  Mat  Murad.  "Read  it  again;  I  have  not 
quite  understood  it  all." 

The  learned  man  again  perused  the  letter,  and  once 
more  began  to  translate  its  contents,  line  for  line.  The 
listeners,  concentrating  their  whole  attention  upon  the 
reader,  kept  silent.  Dostchak  alone,  it  appeared,  re- 
mained an  entirely  unconcerned  witness  of  what  was 
passing  before  his  eyes.  He  looked  about,  and  con- 
versed in  whispers  with  his  captors,  only  working  his 
elbows  convulsively  to  relieve  the  pressure  of  the  rope 
upon  his  arms. 

"  '  To  the  brave  warrior,  Atam  Kul,'  "  read  the  learned 
man;  "  '  from  the  Russian  general. 

" '  May  God  send  him  every  blessing  and  every  suc- 
cess, victory  over  his  enemies,  and  peace  in  his  house. 
For  leading  our  men  from  the  wells  to  the  water  he 
receives  our  thanks.  We  sent  the  promised  ten  cloaks 
and  one  thousand  golden  teels,  but  have  received  no 
answer  as  yet.  Have  these  things  been  received?  We 
also  thank  you  for  your  last  letter,  in  which  you  inform 
us  of  the  dissensions  in  your  Khanate  and  that  the  road 
to  Khiva  is  open  on  your  side.  The  other  thousand  teels 
and  ten  cloaks  will  be  forwarded  immediately.  You 
promised  to  capture  that  fool  Mat  Murad  and  that  bad 
man  Mullah  Sadik  alive,  and  deliver  them  into  our 
hands;  for  that  we  will  agree  to  give  you  what  you 
ask  —  ten  thousand  teels  for  each  head.  For  the  boats 
which  your  people  delivered  to  us  for  crossing  the  river 


THE  GENERAL'S  LETTER.  219 

the  general  will  give  you  the  great  cross  with  the  eagle 
of  the  White  Tsar,  and  the  rank  of  colonel.  May 
Allah  preserve  thee!  We  will  see  you  soon  at  Khiva 
—  only  assist  us  as  before.'  " 

The  interpreter  had  finished  his  translation.  Mat 
Murad  looked  at  Sadik,  who  returned  his  glance  from 
under  his  shaggy  cap.  "  Before  you  can  deliver  our 
heads,"  muttered  the  commander  between  his  teeth, 
"  we  will  flay  you  alive.  And  with  you  we  will  also 
finish  speedily,"  he  continued,  addressing  his  last  words 
to  Dostchak. 

"  Why  would  you  punish  a  poor  dshigit?  What  have 
I  done?  I  was  sent,  and,  well,  I  brought  what  I  was 
told  to  bring.  Did  I  know  what  was  written  there?  I 
serve  the  Russians  unwillingly;  they  took  me  by  force. 
I  agreed  to  carry  this  letter  to  Atam  Kul  so  as  to  get 
away  from  the  Russians  and  to  remain  here  with  you. 
Why  do  you  want  to  kill  me?  " 

Poor  Dostchak  glanced  pitifully  at  Mat  Murad,  and 
conducted  his  defense  with  so  much  apparent  simplicity 
that  the  latter  smiled  involuntarily. 

"If  I  had  known  what  was  written  there,  I  should 
have  brought  the  letter  straight  to  you,  Datkha.  What 
is  Atam  Kul  to  me?  He  is  a  stranger  to  me.  If  you 
want  me  to  I'll  finish  him  with  my  own  hands,  here 
before  you." 

The  last  words  of  Dostchak  were  accompanied  by  a 
very  significant  gesture.  A  deep  rage  succeeded  to  his 
assumed  simplicity,  suddenly  and  completely  changing 
the  lines  of  his  face.  This  change  attracted  Sadik's 
attention. 

"You  do  not  know  him?"  he  inquired,  looking 
straight  into  the  old  man's  eyes. 

"  I?     No,  I  do  not  know  him.     I  saw  him  once  when 


220  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

he  was  serving  with  the  Russians,  and  never  again. 
No,  I  do  not  know  him!  " 

Mat  Murad  pointed  with  his  whip.  "  To  Rustem's 
garden.  Give  him  a  horse;  we  shall  need  him  yet.  We 
will  march  all  night  so  as  to  surprise  the  renegade  at 
daybreak.  Ha'ida! " 

They  mounted  Dostchak  upon  a  horse,  tying  his  legs 
under  its  belly,  and  to  make  everything  safe  they  passed 
a  long  rope  around  his  neck.  The  whole  cavalcade 
then  proceeded  at  a  gallop,  turning  aside  from  the 
Khazar-Asp  road  in  the  direction  of  Mullah  Atam  Kul's 
quarters.  Sadik,  with  his  Kirghiz,  went  around  by 
another  road,  in  order  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  their 
intended  victim  should  he  become  apprised  in  time  of 
the  danger  threatening  him. 

The  letter,  the  corpus  delicti  —  the  work  of  the  clerk 
"  who  could  write  like  the  general  " —  Mat  Murad  care- 
fully deposited  in  the  folds  of  his  gorgeous  cloak, 
richly  embroidered  in  gold  thread. 

The  sun  had  only  just  risen  when  Rustem's  houses 
and  garden  were  already  surrounded. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

TRIAL    AND    PUNISHMENT. 

MAT  MURAD  and  Sadik  dismounted  from  their  horses. 
Large  Khivan  carpets  were  spread  upon  the  ground, 
and  they  both  seated  themselves,  preparing  to  judge 
and  punish  the  accused. 

The  followers  of  both  leaders  formed  a  circle,  seating 


TRIAL    AND    PUNISHMENT.  221 

themselves  also,  silently  awaiting  the  developments 
before  this  improvised  court  of  justice. 

Atam  Kul's  men  kept  at  a  distance.  They  were  only 
few,  and  any  attempt  to  rescue  their  leader  by  force 
was  out  of  the  question.  A  majority  looked  upon  this 
occurrence  as  a  favorable  opportunity  for  taking  their 
leave,  and  among  the  first  to  disappear  was  the  Persian, 
who,  passing  by  the  harem,  gave  the  inmates  a  whis- 
pered warning  to  get  away  as  quickly  as  possible,  and 
then  took  to  the  fields,  across  the  back  wall. 

Atam  Kul  was  made  to  sit  opposite  to  his  judges  and 
accusers.  He  gazed  gloomily  upon  the  ground,  but 
seemed  quite  unconcerned.  He  felt,  however,  that 
this  affair  might  end  badly  for  him.  He  knew  that  his 
relations  with  Mat  Murad  and  Sadik  had  of  late  been 
far  from  friendly,  but  had  not  feared  them  thus  far, 
because  he  knew  of  nothing  he  had  done  that  «ould 
give  them  a  pretext  to  threaten  his  life.  He  considered 
himself  their  companion  in  arms,  upon  an  almost  equal 
footing,  whose  life  they  would  not  dare  to  attempt. 
He  was  aware,  of  course,  that  at  the  present  moment 
they  seemed  to  have  assumed  the  right  to  do  so.  Was 
there  any  way  of  extricating  himself  from  the  hands  of 
his  enemies?  He  reviewed  in  his  mind  every  circum- 
stance, ever  so  trifling,  that  had  occurred  of  late,  and 
involuntarily  shrugged  his  shoulders  when  he  could 
recall  nothing  important.  May  it  be  the  old  grudge? 
he  thought,  glancing  at  Sadik,  but  he  quickly  put  aside 
that  thought  and  searched  for  new  reasons.  At  times 
he  glanced  furtively  over  the  heads  of  the  sitting  men, 
in  the  direction  of  his  harem,  and  then  his  looks 
resembled  those  of  a  dog  watching  a  dish  of  food  pre- 
pared for  him,  but  out  of  his  reach,  while  another  dog 
is  gradually  approaching  the  dish  and  its  much-coveted 


222  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

contents.  A  moment  later  he  heard  a  woman's  shriek, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  that  it  was  the  voice  of  Natalia 
Martinovna.  He  trembled  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Sadik  snarled  between  his 
teeth.  Atam  Kill's  arms  were  pinioned  and  the  end  of 
the  rope  was  fastened  to  his  left  foot,  making  it  very 
difficult  for  him  to  move  at  all.  Two  of  his  guards 
easily  put  him  back  into  his  former  position. 

The  compromising  letter  was  read  to  him.  "  Of 
what  is  written  there,"  he  answered,  firmly,  but  turn- 
ing pale,  "I  remember  nothing  —  I  know  nothing!" 

"You  esteem  our  heads  very  cheaply  indeed,"  said 
Mat  Murad.  "  I  thank  you  for  your  appreciation.  You 
have  done  us  a  great  honor.  It  is  no  joke  —  ten  thou- 
sand teels!  " 

"  I  would  not  have  given  a  counterfeit  kokan  for  your 
head,"  said  Sadik,  smiling  maliciously.  "  I  would  sim- 
ply throw  it  away  as  useless  carrion." 

"Take  care  —  your  turn  may  come,"  growled  Atam 
Kul. 

"We  will  take  care!  " 

"Are  you  still  a  Mussulman?"  Mat  Murad  inquired, 
shaking  his  head,  "  or  have  you  turned  renegade  alto- 
gether? Have  you  commenced  to  sell  your  own 
people? " 

"  It  is  not  true  what  is  written  in  that  letter.  Show 
me  the  man  who  brought  the  paper.  Where  did  you 
get  it  ?  Much  may  be  written  from  ill-will.  Who 
brought  this  letter? " 

"  Bring  him  here!  "  cried  Mat  Murad.  Dostchak  was 
led  into  the  circle. 

Atam  Kul  ground  his  teeth.  With  foam  oozing  from 
his  mouth  he  turned  upon  the  old  man.  If  at  that  mo- 


TRIAL    AND    PUNISHMENT.  223 

ment  the  ropes  confining  his  arms  had  broken  he  would 
have  strangled  him  on  the  spot. 

"When  I  was  a  prisoner  with  the  Russians,"  hoarsely 
cried  the  accused,  "  he  tried  to  destroy  me;  he  was  pre- 
paring death  for  me.  This  is  my  enemy;  that  is  a  lying 
paper.  I'll  swear  upon  the  Koran;  may  lightning  burn 
me;  may  my  body  be  covered  with  leprosy;  may  my 
tongue  rot  in  my  mouth  if  I  am  lying  now!  That  paper 
is  false!  I  am  an  enemy  of  the  Russians;  I  do  not  deal 
with  them.  That  letter  has  been  written  to  destroy 
me!  "  The  unfortunate  was  speaking  excitedly,  trem- 
bling all  over.  His  face  was  purplish,  the  veins  stood 
out  from  his  forehead,  his  eyes  roved  wildly  from  side 
to  side.  Atam  Kul  seemed  like  one  possessed. 

Dostchak  crossed  his  hands  upon  his  heart  and  made 
Mat  Murad  a  deep  obeisance.  He  moved  forward,  and 
observing  the  helpless  condition  of  Atam  Kul,  he 
stepped  to  within  two  paces  of  him. 

"  Permit  me,  Datkha  —  permit  me,  a  miserable  worm 
groveling  in  the  dirt,  your  unworthy  slave,  to  say  a 
word.  Allow  me  to  open  your  eyes  that  you  may  see 
how  bad  a  man  this  is.  I,  Dostchak,  know  much,  and  I 
will  tell  you  much  that  is  good.  Only  permit  me  to 
speak! " 

"  Speak!"  said  Mat  Murad. 

"  This  man  has  done  much  evil  to  your  country. 
Allow  me  to  question  him  myself." 

"  He  may  question  him,"  decided  Sadik. 

"  So  you  received  no  cloaks  from  the  Russians  —  you 
did  not  —  eh?  Oho!  "  Dostchak  gravely  shook  his  head 
and  looked  down  disdainfully  upon  the  accused.  "  You 
really  say  you  did  not  receive — " 

"  No;  you  lie,  you  dog!  " 

"  Wait.     And  you  received  no  money?  " 


224  THE    TWO-LEGGED   WOLF. 

"  No." 

"  And  you  received  no  wife  —  a  good  wife  that  you 
asked  of  the  general? " 

"  You  lie,  you  cursed  one!  " 

"  Oho!  what  a  bad,  lying  tongue  is  yours.  Ask  these 
people,  Datkha,  if  they  did  not  bring  him  the  other 
day  —  it  must  have  been  yesterday  — a  woman,  a  Rus- 
sian woman,  from  the  Russian  camp.  And  what  a 
woman!  —  the  best  there  was  in  the  whole  camp.  Ask 
them? " 

"  That  is  so!  Tura,"  said  one  of  the  natives.  "  I  saw 
her.  A  Russian  woman  is  sitting  in  the  house  there 
now,  and  she  was  brought  yesterday,  in  the  evening. 
I  saw  her." 

"  Bring  her  here!  " 

Several  men  rushed  into  the  house.  Atam  Kul 
began  to  look  alarmed,  and  seemed  to  be  chafing  in  his 
bonds.  A  few  minutes  of  dead  silence  followed.  At 
last  Natalia  Martinovna  appeared  from  behind  the 
vineyard.  They  were  leading  her,  supporting  her 
under  her  arms;  they  were  obliged  to  almost  carry 
her.  With  the  greatest  difficulty  she  held  the  boy  in 
her  arms,  the  child  trembling  with  fear  and  looking 
about  without  comprehending  his  position.  Natalia 
scarcely  moved  of  her  own  volition,  and  did  not  seem 
to  see  what  was  before  her.  Stupefaction  seemed 
to  have  seized  her  whole  being.  She  had  no  idea  of 
what  was  expected  of  her  or  what  might  be  demanded 
from  her. 

"I  am  right — don't  you  see?  I  am  right!"  boasted 
Dostchak. 

"  Were  you  brought  from  the  Russian  camp? "  asked 
Mat  Murad.  She  remained  silent. 

"Let  the  interpreter  ask  her  in  her  own  language," 


TRIAL    AND    PUNISHMENT.  225 

was  suggested  by  Sadik,  and  the  question  was  trans- 
lated. 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  Russian  —  I  am  a  Russian,"  muttered 
Natalia  Martinovna,  addressing  herself  to  no  one  in 
particular.  "  Let  me  go!  This  is  my  son;  it  is  not 
yours  —  let  us  go."  She  spoke  as  if  unconscious  of 
what  she  was  saying;  her  speech  resembled  the  mut- 
terings  of  a  person  in  a  dream. 

"Poor  woman!  poor  woman!"  said  old  Dostchak. 
"  And  that  is  your  work,  you  beast!  "  he  addressed 
Atam  Kul.  "  It  was  to  buy  your  fratricidal  knife,  to 
buy  your  help,  that  they  gave  you  this  woman." 

"  Let  us  finish  with  him,"  said  Sadik,  yawning. 
"  We're  only  losing  time.  The  case  is  clear." 

Mat  Murad  pondered,  and  then  ensued  a  few  moments 
of  oppressive,  almost  unbearable  silence.  All  kept  per- 
fectly quiet;  only  the  horses  rattled  their  bits  and 
neighed,  and  a  flock  of  rose-colored  sparrows  played  and 
chirped  noisily  in  the  tops  of  the  grove  of  plantains. 

Atam  Kul  hung  his  head. 

"  Finish  with  him,"  quietly  pronounced  Mat  Murad, 
making  an  expressive  sign  with  his  hand,  drawing  his 
finger  around  the  collar  of  his  cloak. 

"Stand  up,  culprit!"  And  two  gigantic  Kirghiz 
stepped  up  to  the  condemned  man. 

"  Oh,  great  judge!  "  Dostchak  addressed  Mat  Murad. 
"May  Allah  shower  many  blessings  upon  thy  wise 
head!  Permit  me  to  do  it  —  to  cut  the  throat  of  this 
bad  man!  " 

"  Look  out  for  yourself  —  away!  "  the  Datkha  replied, 
angrily,  spitting  upon  the  ground  in  disgust.  "  Make 
an  end  of  him  quickly!  " 

"  Oh,  you  devils!  "  shrieked  Atam  Kul  at  the  top  of 
his  voice.  "  Why  do  you  play  at  justice,  you  robbers, 


226  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

both  of  you?  That  is  all  you  are!  You  have  been 
concocting  my  destruction  long  ago.  Well,  take  my 
head,  taste  of  my  innocent  blood,  until  they  weigh  like 
millstones  around  your  necks,  until  eternal  damnation 
falls  upon  your  heads  — " 

He  was  quickly  overthrown  and  a  cloak  wrapped 
around  his  head;  then  he  was  carried  bodily  into  the 
nearest  building. 

"  Throw  away  that  carrion!  "  said  Mat  Murad,  turn- 
ing his  face  away  in  disgust  when  they  brought  him 
the  head  of  the  two-legged  wolf,  Mullah  Atam  Kul. 

"  Don't  throw  it  away! "  said  Sadik,  and  turned  to 
old  Dostchak.  "Here!  take  this  head  and  carry  it  to 
the  Russian  general  as  a  present  from  me  and  Mat 
Murad!  Take  it!  " 

Dostchak  seized  the  ghastly  remnant  with  both  his 
hands,  threw  himself  down  on  his  knees  before  Sadik, 
and  fervently  kissed  the  hem  of  his  cloak. 

Yunus  —  the  son  of  his  heart  —  was  avenged. 

At  about  the  same  time  a  group  of  horsemen  was 
rapidly  advancing  along  the  road  leading  from  Khiva 
to  Gurlen,  in  the  Yomud  desert.  In  the  midst  of  the 
cavalcade  rode  a  man  still  young,  but  with  a  worn,  pale 
face,  with  pendent,  apathetic  under  lip.  He  was  attired 
in  a  cloak  of  Cashmere  shawl,  and  wore  upon  his  head 
a  high  Turkoman  sheepskin  cap.  His  tall  charger 
walked  with  a  long  easy  step,  while  the  other  horses 
were  barely  keeping  up  with  him  at  a  short  gallop. 
Some  distance  behind  the  cavalcade  followed  about 
forty  carts  in  a  single  line,  each  drawn  by  two  horses. 
Upon  these  carts  heavy  loads  had  been  piled  in  great 
disorder.  It  was  evident  that  the  loading  had  been 


THE    KHAN   OK    KHIVA    AM)    IHS   StMTK. 


A   FEW  WORDS  OP  THE  KHAN  AND   HIS  SUBJECTS.        227 

done  in  a  hurry.  Costly  carpets,  iron-bound  chests, 
bundles  of  clothing,  and  metallic  vessels  and  implements 
had  been  thrown  in  promiscuously.  The  caravan 
moved  rapidly,  as  if  in  flight,  as  if  trying  to  escape  from 
some  dire  disaster  which  threatened  in  their  rear. 

They  were  actually  flying.  The  man  was  the  Khan 
of  Khiva,  Said  Rahim-Bogadur,  who  after  a  last  con- 
sultation with  his  counselors  had  completely  lost  his 
head. 

The  Russians  were  already  under  the  walls  of  Khiva. 
The  Khan  was  flying.  Where  he  was  going  he  did  not 
know  himself,  nor  did  he  care.  He  was  evidently 
frightened,  and  trembled  nervously  whenever  certain 
heavy  reports  fell  upon  his  ear. 

The  reports  came  from  the  Russian  cannon. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

A    FEW    WORDS    OF    THE    KHAN  AND    HIS    SUBJECTS. 

THE  political  changes  in  Central  Asia  were  progress- 
ing, sometimes  in  the  channels  prepared  by  diplomacy 
and  statesmanship,  and  sometimes  taking  new  and 
unforeseen  courses. 

Everything  was  ready  for  the  final  development  of 
the  drama  being  enacted.  The  fall  of  Khiva  was  inev- 
itable, and  the  useless  shedding  of  blood  under  its  walls 
did  not  in  any  way  hasten  the  course  of  events,  but  only 
involved  the  sacrifice  of  a  few  unnecessary  victims  from 
the  Russian  ranks  —  ranks  not  very  full  even  without 
those  losses.  Rreference  is  made  to  the  attempt  by 

15 


#28  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

the  Caucasian  and  Orenburg  expeditions  to  take  the 
town  by  storm  at  the  very  moment  when  the  people 
had  sent  a  peaceful  deputation  to  the  commander-in- 
chief,  and  opened  to  him  the  eastern  gate. 

The  Khan  of  Khiva  fled.  This  was  his  least  excusa- 
ble blunder;  a  stupid  act,  to  which  he  was  urged  by 
fanatics,  and  which  came  very  nearly  causing  him  to 
lose  his  throne  altogether. 

It  is  probable  that  Said  Rahim-Bogadur  recognized 
his  blunder  in  the  course  of  time,  or  that  the  counsels 
of  other  advisers,  who  could  see  a  little  farther  than 
their  master,  gained  the  upper  hand  over  the  fanatic 
opponents  of  Russian  influence,  for  but  a  few  days  later 
the  Khan  wrote  to  the  Russian  general,  expressing  his 
readiness  to  submit  to  the  will  of  his  conqueror,  and 
notifying  him  of  his  intention  to  return  to  the  city.  A 
joint  council  was  established,  composed  of  Russians  and 
native  representatives  of  the  Khanate.  This  council 
regulated  the  course  of  further  proceedings  and  decided 
the  fate  of  the  Amu  Daria  Oasis,  and  peace  was  thus 
concluded. 

By  this  peace  the  Khan  was  returned  to  his  city,  and 
his  control  over  all  the  tribes  inhabiting  the  greater 
portion  of  the  Khanate  of  Khiva  was  recognized;  only 
the  right  bank  of  the  Amu  and  its  delta  were  incorpo- 
rated with  the  vast  domain  of  Russian  territory. 

A  contribution  in  money  was  imposed  upon  the  Khan 
and  his  subjects  to  cover,  at  least  partially,  the  enor- 
mous expenditure  caused  by  the  various  expeditions.  It 
only  remained  to  collect  this  contribution.  This  sentence 
is  easily  written,  and  more  easily  pronounced,  but  it  was 
not  quite  so  easy  to  carry  it  into  effect  or  to  comply 
with  the  most  important  clause  of  the  treaty  of  peace. 

A  large  number  of   the  Khan's  subjects  were  held 


A  FEW  WORDS  OF   THE  KHAN  AND   HIS  SUBJECTS.       229 

under  but  slight  subjection;  in  many  cases  the  term  was 
but  a  figure  of  speech,  and  the  Khan's  control  over 
them  was  of  the  feeblest.  This  was  true  of  the  inde- 
pendent Turkoman  tribes  settled  along  the  left  bank 
of  the  Amu,  and  farther  southward  in  the  heart  of  the 
open  steppes  which  separate  the  Khanate  from  Persia 
and  the  mountain  regions  of  the  Himalayas. 

Half-nomadic,  half-settled  brigands  as  they  are,  they 
had  heretofore  acknowledged  no  obligations  to  the 
Khan  beyond  furnishing  him  a  certain  number  of 
armed  horsemen  or  attendants  whenever  he  should 
require  them.  They  also  delivered  to  their  so-called 
ruler,  in  the  guise  of  presents,  a  certain  part  of  the 
plunder  obtained  by  violence  and  robbery  perpetrated 
upon  their  neighbors.  This  system  had,  in  their  eyes  at 
least,  legitimized  or  legalized  their  old  mode  of  life,  to 
which  they  were  much  attached,  and  which  they  never 
had  the  slightest  intention  of  changing. 

The  Turkoman  tribes  made  up  the  greater  part  of 
the  population  of  the  Khanate,  and  they  had  been  the 
principal  factors  in  bringing  on  the  war,  having  drawn 
punishment  and  vengeance  upon  themselves  by  their 
plundering  expeditions.  It  was  therefore  but  just  that 
the  greater  part  of  the  money  contribution  should  be 
laid  upon  their  shoulders,  but  they  flatly  refused  to  pay 
their  part. 

The  Khan  Said  Rahim  possessed  no  power  to  bring  the 
Turkomans  into  subjection,  and  openly  acknowledged 
the  fact  to  the  Russians.  To  give  in  to  these  impudent 
robbers  would  have  been  highly  injudicious  —  it  was 
essential  that  they  should  be  forced  to  submit,  that 
their  unruly  spirit  be  broken  and  their  customary  faith 
in  their  own  exemption  from  punishment  be  destroyed. 

The  war  with  the  Khanate  of  Khiva  was  at  an  end, 


230  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

but  it  was  found  unavoidable  to  inaugurate  immediately 
another  war  —  for  the  subjection  of  unruly  subjects. 
With  this  purpose  in  view,  various  smaller  but  distinct 
expeditions  were  organized  by  the  Russians  to  march 
against  the  Turkomans  into  the  very  heart  of  their 
settlements  and  pasture-lands. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

AGAIN    IN    THE    OFFICERS*    CIRCLE. 

A  LIVELY,  brilliant  scene  of  military  life  was  being 
enacted  under  the  dense  shadows  of  huge  plantain-trees 
in  the  gardens  and  vineyards  surrounding  Khiva. 

Since  early  morning  the  roads  and  the  walls  of  the 
surburban  gardens  had  been  lined  with  the  brilliant 
front  of  the  forces  belonging  to  the  Caucasian  and 
Orenburg  expeditions.  They  were  all  in  full  uniform, 
and  shone  and  sparkled  as  if  on  peaceful  parade  on  one 
of  the  vast  squares  of  the  capital.  The  infantry  in  their 
original  "  papakha  "  (paper  helmets)  and  the  cavalry  in 
their  jaunty  red  and  white  "cherkeska"  (caps);  the 
officers  with  shining  epaulets;  the  sound  of  music, 
the  animated  Russian  language  —  all  these  combined 
to  cause  the  observer  to  forget  that  he  found  himself  at 
one  of  the  most  distant  points  of  uncivilized  Central 
Asia  and  to  imagine  himself  back  in  Europe. 

In  vivid  contrast,  though  in  line  with  this  parade 
front,  stood  the  plain,  campaign-stained,  and  almost  beg- 
garly looking,  but  formidable  Turkestan  battalions. 
Their  dusty  white  blouses,  white  caps,  with  linen  have- 


AGAIN    IN    THE    OFFICERS*    CIRCLE.  231 

locks,  yellow  or  almost  brown  from  the  effects  of  time 
and  dust;  their  once-red  leather  trousers,  boots  shrunk 
from  solar  heat  and  smeared  with  grease;  their  knap- 
sacks upon  their  shoulders  —  all  these  were  in  sharp 
contrast  to  the  fine  uniforms  of  the  Caucasian  expedi- 
tion. But  all  this  ugliness  breathed  a  spirit  of  power 
and  of  strength,  and  inspired  the  fascinated  beholder 
with  a  sense  of  invincibility  —  a  spirit  which  induced 
the  native  who  had  looked  impassively  upon  the  other 
troops  to  lower  his  eyes,  and,  with  a  respect  which 
amounted  almost  to  a  superstitious  dread,  to  describe  a 
wide  circuit  around  these  columns  so  common  in  ap- 
pearance. The  first  request  made  by  the  Khan  of 
Khiva  on  visiting  the  Russian  camp  was  to  be  shown 
from  a  distance  the  soldiers  who  crossed  the  terrible 
desert.  The  ruler  of  Khiva  did  not  believe  that  these 
were  common  mortals.  His  oriental  imagination  had 
doubtless  pictured  to  him  some  kind  of  "  Ak-Kulmak," 
or  fabulous  beings.  It  was  interesting  to  see  the  rapt 
attention  with  which  the  Khan  gazed  upon  the  tanned 
faces  of  these  soldiers  as  he  passed  along  their  front. 
His  lips  trembled,  and  he  whispered  something  —  per- 
haps a  prayer;  perhaps  an  oath. 

The  review  was  over;  the  troops  occupied  the  places 
assigned  to  them  for  their  bivouacs.  The  officers  of 
the  united  expeditions  began  to  gather  in  circles. 
Friends,  acquaintances,  and  even  relatives  met,  greeting 
each  other  more  or  less  cordially.  A  merry,  noisy,  ani- 
mated conversation  was  being  carried  on  everywhere. 

In  Major  Pugovitzin's  tent  about  ten  of  his  more 
intimate  companions  had  assembled.  The  major's 
orderly,  the  bold  Proshka,  who  had  been  investigating 
the  condition  of  wine-cellars  among  the  sutlers  of  the 
Caucasian  expedition,  had  secured,  to  his  great  satis- 


232  THE    TWO-LEGGED    \\OLl. 

faction,  a  whole  half-dozen  of  big-bellied  bottles,  sealed 
with  white  wax,  and  with  necks  coated  with  shining 
tin-foil.  What  enjoyment  awaited  the  guests  of  Major 
Pugovitzin  after  a  whole  series  of  miserable  stations 
and  months  of  privations!  The  major  was  still  in 
ignorance  as  to  whether  his  orderly's  efforts  in  the 
adjoining  camp  had  been  crowned  with  success,  and 
proceeding,  to  the  entrance  of  the  tent  that  had  only 
just  been  erected,  he  cast  a  questioning  glance  at 
Proshka,  accompanied  by  a  doubtful  "  Well? " 

"  I  have  got  them,"  replied  the  orderly  in  a  myste- 
rious whisper,  and  then  added  in  a  louder  tone,  "  They 
have  such  quantities  over  there;  it  flows  everywhere 
like  common  water.  The  whole  army  could  not  drink 
it  up  in  two  days,  your  honor." 

"Glasses!"  ordered  the  host.  "Now,  gentlemen,  we 
will  ask  a  blessing  over  what  God  has  sent  us.  Hey, 
boys,  spread  the  carpet  and  trice  up  the  sides  of  the 
tent.  That's  right!  Be  seated,  gentlemen."  A  few 
soldiers  hurriedly  raised  the  walls  of  the  tent,  and  thus 
formed  a  shady  cover  under  which  the  breeze  played 
fresh  and  cool. 

"  Sitting  this  way,  "  began  a  corpulent  and  very  bald 
captain,  "reminds  one  of  Dominic  and  Dononi "  (St. 
Petersburg  cafes).  He  was  very  fond  of  these  com- 
parisons, in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  had  never  been  at 
Dominic's  and  Dononi's  in  his  life,  for  the  simple  but 
very  sufficient  reason  that  he  had  never  happened  to 
have  been  in  St.  Petersburg. 

"  Have  you  a  Dominic,  or  a  what-do-you-call-him,  at 
Cheboksarakh,  where  you  have  been  stationed? "  curi- 
ously inquired  his  neighbor. 

The  captain  did  not  satisfy  his  neighbor's  curiosity, 
but  seemed  absorbed  in  rapt  contemplation  of  one  of 
the  bottles. 


AGAIN    IN    THE    OFFICERS*    CIRCLE.  233 

The  lame  Cossack  also  made  his  appearance,  pleas- 
antly nodding  his  head  to  the  company,  and,  without 
waiting  for  an  invitation,  seated  himself  upon  the 
carpet.  The  lively  talk  subsided  a  little  upon  his 
arrival.  The  sad  expression  of  his  face,  though  appar- 
ently calm,  and  even  smiling,  did  not  seem  in  harmony 
with  their  joyous  spirits.  The  bald  captain  was  con- 
tinuing his  abortive  attempts  at  spelling  out  the  French 
label  on  the  wine-bottle,  but  he  suddenly  stopped,  with 
an  inquisitive  "  Eh? "  and  also  subsided,  returning  the 
bottle  to  its  place. 

"Gentlemen,  I  will  withdraw!"  said  the  Cossack. 
"  What  is  it  that  seems  to  dampen  your  spirits  when  I 
come?  Do  I  trouble  you  in  any  way?  I  would  not 
have  come,  but  I  felt  very  lonely,  and  hoped  to  over- 
come the  feeling  by  listening  to  conversation  and 
laughter.  However,  I  will  go  — " 

"  Now,  that  is  enough, .old  friend!  "  said  Pugovitzin, 
seizing  his  hand.  "  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  Sit 
down.  You  are  a  good  fellow,  only  you  are  a  regular 
woman.  Here!  drink  a  glass  of  this  'fizz'  that  my 
Proshka  managed  to  raise  for  us.  Sit  down!  " 

"  Yesterday  he  was  roaming  about  the  whole  camp 
again,"  whispered  one  officer  to  another,  glancing  at 
the  Cossack;  "he  never  loses  hope,  and  keeps  on 
searching." 

"  I  dare  say!  "  replied  the  other,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders. 

"  But  I  say,  what  is  lost  is  lost!  Consider  the  time 
that  has  passed  without  any  news  whatever."  And  he 
continued  to  whisper  into  his  companion's  ear,  holding 
onto  a  button  of  his  coat  and  gesticulating  with  the 
long  slender  fingers  of  his  other  hand. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  Dutchman,  gentlemen? "  loudly 
inquired  a  young  ensign. 


234  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  The  Hussar?     He  is  a  strange  fellow!  " 

"  You  may  well  say  strange!  He  is  a  man,  of  course, 
only  his  legs  are  somewhat  thin;  but  he  can  drink  well. 
I  saw  him — " 

"  Would  you  believe  it?  He  poured  out  his  brandy, 
then  put  in  a  piece  of  sugar,  some  extract  of  lemon, 
and  then  kept  stirring  and  stirring  it  up,  in  the  mean- 
time soaking  little  pieces  of  cracker  in  it  and  eating 
them!  It  made  me  sick.  Here's  to  your  health!  Ah, 
if  we  only  had  some  ice!  Wouldn't  it  be  splendid?" 

"  A  horse,  a  horse  —  a  kingdom  for  a  horse,  or  a  piece 
of  ice!  "  declaimed  one  of  the  guests.  "  Only  wait;  we 
shall  have  all  that  again.  Time  is  passing." 

"  Heel-taps!  gentlemen,"  shouted  Pugovitzin. 

"In  expectation  of  future  similar  blessings!"  Major 
Birnaps  continued  the  toast.  The  officers  began  to 
clink  their  glasses,  which  had  been  rilled  to  the  brim. 

During  the  first  moments  after  the  catastrophe  when, 
in  Natalia  Martinovna's  tent,  the  lame  Cossack  had 
read  the  fatal  note,  he  had  completely  lost  his  head. 
He  did  not  know  what  to  do  or  what  to  say.  To  pur- 
sue her  was  the  first  idea  to  enter  his  head,  and  he 
rushed  from  the  tent;  but  then  his  strength  left  him 
entirely.  He  pressed  both  hands  upon  his  breast,  stag- 
gered ahead  for  a  few  paces,  and  then  sat  down  upon 
the  ground.  People  came  up  and  questioned  him,  but 
he  made  no  answer.  Silently  he  handed  the  note  to 
the  first  man  who  approached  him.  The  letter  was 
read,  and  in  fifteen  minutes  the  news  of  Natalia  Mar- 
tinovna's flight  had  spread  over  the  whole  camp.  Pur- 
suing parties  were  at  once  fitted  out  and  inquiries 
instituted,  but  it  all  led  to  nothing.  The  results  of  the 
pursuit  were  even  less  satisfactory  than  on  the  occasion 


AGAIN    IN    THE    OFFICERS*    CIRCLE.  235 

when  the  flying  Atam  Kul  had  been  pursued.  At  that 
time  they  had  at  least  found  tracks,  and  they  had  even 
seen  the  robber  himself,  but  here  they  never  discovered 
the  faintest  sign  or  found  the  slightest  hint.  Much 
time  had  been  lost  —  sufficient  to  enable  her  to  reach 
such  a  distance  from  the  camp  as  to  make  the  search 
not  only  difficult  but  dangerous  for  small  parties. 
Nothing  remained  but  to  submit  to  fate  and  wait. 

With  what  burning  impatience  the  unfortunate 
Golovin  watched  every  step  of  the  advance,  and  how 
he  fumed  over  the  slightest  obstacles,  the  least  delay! 
The  most  frightful  suggestions  and  apprehensions 
alarmed  his  soul  and  distracted  his  brain.  At  times 
nobody  believed  that  his  mind  would  withstand  the 
strain. 

She  must  be  with  Atam  Kul  —  so  much  was  certain. 
Atam  Kul  had  gone  somewhere  into  the  heart  of  the 
Turkoman  steppes  —  that  was  also  known;  but  where 
was  the  place?  The  sanguinary  developments  at  Rus- 
tem's  villa  were  still  unknown  to  the  Russians. 

The  unfortunate  man  was  wandering  about  the  camp 
pale  and  emaciated;  his  hair  was  rapidly  turning  gray. 
He  still  visited  the  various  circles  and  messes  to  listen 
to  the  cheerful  conversation,  but  his  presence  always 
proved  a  damper  upon  the  spirits  of  others. 

Once  he  made  up  his  mind  to  drop  everything,  to 
steal  away  from  the  camp,  and  to  undertake  the  search 
alone.  His  first  attempts  in  that  direction  were  imme- 
diately detected,  and  thereafter  a  strict  watch  was  kept 
over  him  without  letting  him  know  it. 

The  disappearance  of  Dostchak,  which  attracted  much 
attention,  seemed  suspicious,  and  naturally  it  was  con- 
nected with  Natalia's  flight.  Unjust  charges  and  accu- 
sations were  heaped  upon  the  head  of  the  poor  native. 


236  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Golovin's  unrestrained  grief  and  melancholy  brooding 
continued  to  undermine  his  health,  until  his  faculties 
as  well  as  his  whole  nervous  system  were  reduced  to  a 
condition  of  general  numbness.  His  friends  still  came 
to  see  him,  and  strove  to  console  or  cheer  him,  but  no  one 
remained  for  any  length  of  time  without  feeling  himself 
repelled  and  anxious  to  get  away  again. 

Man  can  not  live  long  in  such  a  state  of  mental  and 
moral  disintegration,  and  the  Cossack's  strong  organ- 
ization was  evidently  giving  way  under  the  constant 
pressure  of  an  unbearable  burden. 

"He  will  end  by  contracting  consumption,"  was  the 
verdict  of  the  physicians  of  the  expeditionary  force  as 
they  glanced  at  Golovin  from  a  distance;  and  they 
immediately  engaged  in  a  learned  discussion  of  the 
connection  between  the  physical  and  moral  life  of  their 
subject,  during  which  they  backed  their  assertions  with 
numerous  Latin  quotations  having  no  bearing  at  all 
upon  the  point  at  issue. 

"Well,  brother!"  exclaimed  Major  Pugovitzin,  as  he 
held  out  his  glass  to  touch  that  of  his  melancholy  guest, 
passing  his  other  arm  reassuringly  around  his  waist. 
Golovin  drank  the  wine  in  silence,  at  a  single  draught, 
then  turned,  seized  a  saddle-cushion  lying  close  at  hand 
and  stretched  himself  out  at  full  length,  with  his  back 
toward  the  company. 

"  Do  you  know,  gentlemen,"  began  Lieutenant  Kusti- 
kof,  "  whom  I  met  to-day? " 

"Well?" 

"  I  went  to  the  Caucasian  camp  to-day  —  how  hot 
they  must  be  with  those  foolish  helmets!  Our  caps  are 
much  better.  Oh!  what  was  I  talking  about?  Yes  — 
I  went  to  the  camp,  and  I  looked  about.  Who  the  devil 


AGAIN    IN    THE    OFFICERS*    CIRCLE.  237 

was  that?  Some  familiar  face;  I  really  must  have 
seen  it  somewhere.  I  passed  by  again,  on  purpose. 
Yes,  it  was  his  very  image!  I  passed  once  more,  when 
the  orderly,  to  spite  me,  I  suppose,  let  down  the  side  of 
the  tent,  and  I  could  see  no  longer  what  was  going  on 
inside.  I  was  so  provoked!  " 

"  But  who  was  it?  " 

"Perhaps  it  was  not  he  —  who  knows?  But  there 
certainly  is  a  resemblance." 

"Yes;  but  whom  are  you  talking  about?" 

"  Do  you  remember  Rovitch  —  who  was  at  Chiniaz?" 

"It  can't  be!" 

"Yes,  upon  my  word!  It  was  his  seat  in  the  saddle, 
too.  Don't  you  remember  he  always  sat  a  little  side- 
ways—  rather  affected  English  style?  All  this — yes, 
by  God,  it  must  be  he!  " 

"  Is  he  with  the  Orenburg  troops? " 

"  No;  his  orderly  was  a  Circassian  —  he  must  be  with 
the  Caucasian  expedition.  He  must  be  on  the  staff  — 
his  tent  stands  in  a  garden  by  itself." 

"  We  must  find  out  about  this.  Gentlemen,  did  you 
hear  what  Kustikof  has  been  saying?  Rovitch  is  here!  " 

"  Let  us  go  to  see  him!  " 

"Oh!  to  the  devil  with  him!  " 

"'Sh!"  whispered  Pugovitzin,  holding  up  his  hand, 
glancing  at  the  lame  Cossack.  The  warning  came  too 
late  —  he  had  been  listening  attentively. 


238  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

CHAPTER   XLI. 

REMINISCENCES —  OLD-   ACQUAINTANCES. 

A  HORSEMAN,  with  officer's  epaulets,  clad  in  a  short 
blouse,  fitting  closely  to  his  well-built  form,  rode  up  to 
a  small  tent  standing  by  itself  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  others  in  the  large  garden  occupied  by  the  staff  of 
the  Caucasian  expedition.  He  descended  from  his  horse 
in  a  languid,  leisurely  fashion,  threw  the  bridle  into  the 
hands  of  the  orderly  just  running  up,  and,  thrusting  his 
saber  into  its  metallic  scabbard,  entered,  stooping,  under 
the  canvas  roof  of  his  temporary  domicile. 

The  officer  appeared  somewhat  agitated  and  absorbed 
in  some  subject.  This  was  noticeable  in  the  distracted, 
uneasy  glance  which  he  cast  over  the  interior  of  his 
quarters,  as  well  as  in  his  uncertain  movements  and  in 
the  gesture  of  his  hand,  altogether  unintelligible  to  his 
orderly,  who  was  looking  inquiringly  at  his  master. 
That  gesture  must  mean  something,  express  some  order; 
it  was  even  accompanied  by  the  words,  "  Do  you  hear? " 
—  only  he  to  whom  the  phrase  was  directed  could  hear 
nothing  further,  and  stood  patiently  waiting,  holding  the 
bridle  of  the  perspiring  but  by  no  means  tired  horse. 
His  master  stood  for  a  minute  near  the  center-pole  of 
the  tent,  then  stepped  to  the  folding-bed,  bending  his 
knees  slightly  as  if  about  to  lie  down;  then  changed  his 
mind,  took  off  his  cap  and  put  it  on  again,  and  drew 
toward  him  with  his  foot  a  camp-stool,  which  caught 
in  a  fold  of  the  carpet  and  fell  with  legs  upward. 
He  once  more  extended  his  leg,  clad  in  top-boot  and 
spur,  to  reach  for  another  stool,  this  time  with  bet- 


REMINISCENCES  —  OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  239 

ter  success,  and  seated  himself  at  the  table,  upon  which 
he  began  to  drum  with  his  fingers.  He  took  a  cigar- 
case  from  his  pocket,  selected  a  cigar,  bit  off  the  end, 
and  lighted  a  match,  holding  it  until  the  flame  scorched 
the  ends  of  his  fingers;  he  dropped  it,  but  did  not  light 
another,  and  threw  the  cigar  he  had  prepared  under 
the  table. 

The  orderly  still  waited  patiently,  looking  stolidly  at 
the  horse.  His  master  was  seated  now,  and  seemed  to 
be  gazing  at  the  intricate  shadows  of  branches  thrown 
in  clear  outlines  upon  the  opposite  wall  of  his  canvas 
tent. 

"Do  you  wish  the  samovar,  your  honor?"  The 
orderly  at  last  resolved  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Yes;  lead  him  well,  and  wait  a  little  before  water- 
ing him!  "  the  officer  replied,  as  if  just  awaking.  It  was 
clear  that  the  answer  did  not  fit  the  question,  but  the 
faithful  and  well-trained  servant  understood  what  he 
was  to  do. 

"He  must  be  drunk !  Made  a  mistake  at  the  general's 
breakfast-table!  "  he  pondered  as  he  was  leading  the 
horse  along  the  wall,  carefully  keeping  within  its 
broad,  cool  shadow.  "  Now  he  will  lie  down  and  sleep 
for  an  hour  and  a  half  —  then  he  will  certainly  expect 
to  have  his  samovar,  and  call  for  tea  and  lemon  the 
moment  he  opens  his  eyes.  Some  of  these  gentlemen 
get  anything  they  want  at  the  sutler's,  and  only  have  it 
put  down  on  little  cards.  I  must  try  that  —  maybe 
to-night.  Be  quiet,  Golubok!  Whoa! "  The  orderly 
stroked  the  neck  of  the  fiery  horse,  which  displayed  an 
inclination  to  rise  upon  its  hind  feet.  But  all  these 
reflections  of  the  undersized,  pock-marked  soldier,  with 
thin,  bristling  side-whiskers,  narrow  slits  of  eyes,  and  a 
good-natured  expression,  were  far  from  the  truth  this 


240  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

time.  His  master  did  not  think  of  lying  down,  but  still 
sat  upon  the  camp-stool  before  the  table,  supporting 
his  head  with  both  hands.  He  was  not  drunk,  and 
though  he  had  breakfasted  at  the  general's,  he  had 
made  no  "mistake."  He  was  not  thinking  of  his  bed 
at  this  moment,  because  old  reminiscences  were  crowd- 
ing each  other  in  his  head,  calling  up  such  scenes  and 
pictures  as  would  have  driven  sleep  away  most  effect- 
ually, even  if  it  had  been  the  proper  time  for  it. 

And  there  sat  this  officer  gazing  upon  the  shadows  of 
the  branches,  which  must  have  belonged  to  a  group  of 
large  silvery  acacias,  to  judge  from  the  feather-like 
shapes  of  leaves  so  distinctly  traced  upon  the  canvas. 
Looking  steadily  before  him,  without  removing  his  eyes 
from  those  bluish,  fantastic  outlines,  he  appeared  to  see 
within  them  or  beyond  them  other  lines.  A  small 
cloud  flying  by  swallowed  up  the  patterns  upon  the 
cloth,  but  that  did  not  lessen  his  absorption;  he  still 
kept  fixedly  staring  in  the  same  direction  —  his  steady 
gaze  never  relaxing,  his  eyes  only  blinking  slightly' 
when  the  sun  again  illuminated  the  canvas  and  the 
familiar  tracery  once  more  appeared  upon  its  surface. 

Two  straw-colored  butterflies,  chasing  each  other, 
fluttered  into  the  tent,  playing  about  like  two  bright 
golden  spots.  They  found  their  way  to  the  sitting 
man's  shoulder  and  sat  upon  his  epaulet,  rising  and 
alighting  again  alternately  in  intertwining  curves,  with 
an  occasional  longer  flight  to  the  smooth  surface  of  the 
tightly  stretched  canvas. 

Some  passer-by  stumbled  over  a  tent-rope,  and  swore. 
The  whole  tent  was  shaking,  and  something  seemed  to 
break.  A  large  hairy  spider  of  a  very  suspicious  aspect, 
propelled  by  the  vigorous  movements  of  its  shaggy  legs 
had  gained  the  top  of  the  table,  and  not  liking  the  view 


REMINISCENCES OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  241 

was  preparing  to  let  himself  down  again.  Two  horse- 
men passing  by  at  a  full  run  raised  a  dense  cloud  of 
dust,  which  invaded  the  interior  of  the  tent.  Again  the 
same  spider  had  gained  the  table,  and  was  stationary, 
apparently  considering  how  to  proceed  —  whether  to 
pass  by  or  to  enter  the  sleeve  of  the  officer's  coat,  which 
appeared  to  him,  probably,  like  a  dark  and  dangerous 
tunnel. 

Neither  the  butterflies,  nor  the  awkward  passer-by 
stumbling  over  the  tent-ropes,  nor  the  spider,  nor  the 
horsemen  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the  rapt 
thinker,  and  it  was  owing  only  to  an  accidental  motion 
of  his  hand  that  the  nasty  insect  changed  its  intention 
and  resolved  to  return  by  the  old  familiar  road. 

The  orderly  looked  into  the  tent,  and  what  he  saw 
made  his  small  eyes  open  wide.  He  looked  again  when 
almost  an  hour  had  passed  by,  and  still  it  was  the  same. 
The  horse  Golubok  had  long  since  been  taken  away 
and  unsaddled;  the  small  traveling-samovar  had  boiled 
over  several  times,  and  the  regular  hour  for  tea  had 
gone  by,  but  the  officer  still  sat  and  thought,  still  gazed 
at  the  wall  of  his  tent,  though  the  feathery  shadows 
had  long  since  disappeared  and  been  replaced  by  others 
until  now  it  was  all  solid  shadow,  without  any  tracery 
whatever.  The  bugles  had  sounded  for  "  watering  "  in 
the  adjoining  Cossack  camp,  and  the  infantrymen  in 
their  bivouac  had  been  called  to  their  soup-kettles  in 
the  company  kitchens.  Evening  was  fast  approaching, 
and  still  the  officer  sat  and  brooded,  enveloping  himself 
in  mighty  clouds  of  blue  tobacco-smoke. 

This  officer  had  been  in  Central  Asia  a  few  years  pre- 
viously—  not  here  on  the  banks  of  the  Amu,  in  the 
vicinity  of  Khiva,  but  in  other  parts,  at  Tashkent, 
Samarkand,  and  Chiniaz  —  and  he  found  it  impossible  to 


242  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

drive  from  his  head  certain  memories  of  that  time. 
Scenes  of  a  past  not  very  remote  would  rise  before  him ; 
familiar  faces  and  forms,  more  or  less  distinct,  some 
barely  perceptible,  were  coming  and  going  before  his 
eyes,  their  hazy  profiles  faintly  outlined  against  the 
wall  of  the  tent.  The  longer  the  officer  thought,  the 
clearer  became  to  him  one  shape,  the  memory  of  which 
had  plunged  him  into  this  contemplative  and  retro- 
spective mood.  One  shape  was  becoming  more  and 
more  distinct,  throwing  all  others  into  the  shade.  It 
stood  before  him  as  if  alive,  as  if  saying  to  him,  "  Well, 
my  friend,  remember,  try  to  remember  —  think  of 
everything,  every  trifle,  every  detail;  neglect  nothing; 
weigh  and  consider.  I  shall  watch  you;  if  you  should 
forget,  I  will  remind  you  —  I  shall  let  you  skip  nothing. 
I,  as  your  unsolicited,  uncalled-for  prompter,  will  recall 
to  you,  dictate  to  you  word  for  word,  all  your  reminis- 
cences. Do  not  mind  it,  my  dear;  see!  there  is  nobody 
but  you  and  I  —  nobody  can  hear  us;  therefore  remem- 
ber. Yes,  you  came  to  Chiniaz,  on  the  steamer  Aral, 
and  then  your  adventures  began. 

"Ah!  there  is  the  old  gunner,  with  his  good-natured, 
joyous  countenance,  with  his  long  gray  mustache,  and 
still  longer  pipe;  and  there  is  his  stout,  cross  old  wife, 
with  the  smell  of  the  kitchen  about  her;  and  there  is 
somebody  else  with  them,  some  graceful,  pleasing  form 
with  honest,  loving  eyes.  Do  you  recognize  her?  Look 
well! 

"And  here  is  a  broad,  round-shouldered  figure,  a 
little  rough  in  appearance,  in  a  gray  shirt  —  well,  you 
can  not  remember  names,  and  if  they  come  into  your 
head  you  try  to  shake  them  out  again,  only  you  do  not 
always  succeed.  However,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with 
names  just  now. 


REMINISCENCES OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  243 

"Then  there  was  some  trouble — you  were  riding 
along  on  horseback  and  singing;  you  were  happy  and 
free  from  care,  and  you  never  suspected  that  a  terrible 
deadly  enemy  was  near.  He  sat  there  in  the  bush, 
aiming  both  barrels  of  his  shotgun  at  you.  Here  the 
thread  of  your  reminiscences  breaks,  and  that  is  but 
natural ;  the  man  who  is  hit  does  not  hear  the  report  of 
the  shot,  especially  if  the  hit  is  mortal  and  dealt  from 
close  by. 

"  The  fog  at  last  melts  away  and  you  see  yourself  upon 
a  bed  —  and  there,  again,  are  the  loving  glances,  the 
deft  hands  fluttering  over  your  brow  and  bosom.  You 
thought  then  that  an  angel  was  sitting  by  your  side, 
fanning  you  with  her  wonderful  shining  wings.  You 
worshiped  that  angel  —  why  shouldn't  you,  if  you 
saw  in  her  only  a  messenger  of  God?  You  bent  with 
veneration  over  those  slender,  graceful  fingers.  Is  it 
not  true  that  you  remember  all  this  perfectly?  That  is, 
you  remember  it  now,  but  you  have  tried  your  best  to 
forget  it,  to  drive  it  from  your  memory,  and  to  hide  it 
with  more  recent  brighter  and  stronger  impressions! 

"  Little  by  little  the  angel  lost  her  spiritual  qualities. 
She  descended  to  earth;  taking  to  herself  the  attributes 
of  earth,  she  was  transformed  into  a  woman  —  a  loving 
woman.  Do  you  remember  what  happened  after  that? 
Do  you? 

"  Nonsense!  it  was  nothing!  What  young  man  would 
not  profit  by  his  opportunities  when  a  nice,  good  girl 
comes  so  willingly  to  his  arms?  Who  would  stop  to 
consider  and  think  of  consequences?  There  was  nothing 
very  bad  or  unusual.  The  passing  fancy  wore  itself  out. 
Nobody  loses  anything  by  that.  Even  she,  for  instance, 
what  did  she  lose?  She  has  probably  become  resigned 
long  ago  and  forgotten  all  about  it.  She  may  have 

16 


244  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

been  married  ten  times,  had  children  and  nursed  them, 
and  taken  care  of  her  house,  baking  pies  and  puddings 
after  her  mother's  example  —  and  she  may  be  perfectly 
happy.  There  were  really  some  other  aspiran  Ls;  a  stout, 
jocose  major,  and,  again,  that  rough,  round-shouldered 
man.  But  let  me  see!  Did  not  something  happen  to 
that  round-shouldered  man?  Yes,  but  that  can  not  be 
laid  to  you.  Any  one  insanely  jealous  —  no,  there  he 
is,  emaciated,  ragged,  ill,  with  wild,  wandering  eyes, 
wading  and  tottering  through  the  swamps  like  a  wild 
animal,  bereft  of  reason  and  volition —  A  violent 
shudder  ran  over  the  officer's  body;  he  glanced  about 
him  with  frightened  eyes,  and  lifted  his  hand  to  his 
face  as  if  to  brush  away  some  cobweb  obstructing  his 
vision. 

"There  was  a  child  —  that  is  another  affair;  there 
you  ought  to  have  acted  differently.  Ah!  it  is  nonsense! 
What  about  that  child?  One  can  not  marry  every 
woman  because  she  happens  to  be  the  mother  of  your 
child  —  that  is  impossible,  for  one  reason,  because  we 
are  not  Turks,  and  polygamy  has  no  legal  standing; 
it  is  unlawful,  in  a  measure.  Why  don't  people  under- 
stand that?  Can't  you  understand  it,  at  least,  you  irre- 
pressible, unwelcome  prompter?  And  was  it  his  boy? 
Who  could  prove  that  he  was  the  only  one  who  — "  The 
officer  blushed  up  to  his  ears,  and  once  more  looked 
down  and  laid  both  hands  over  his  face. 

"What  is  this!  "  a  well-known  voice  seemed  to  whis- 
per in  his  ear.  "  Has  your  conscience  really  not  become 
deaf  altogether?  It  must  have  been  aroused,  you  see! 
You  seem  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  You  acknowledge 
the  hideous  heartlessness  of  your  conduct!  " 

It  seems  that  even  now,  when  all  this  had  long  since 
been  laid  aside  and  forgotten,  a  story  told  somewhere 


REMINISCENCES OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  245 

in  one  of  the  officers'  circles  and  overheard  by  him  was 
sufficient  to  overturn  in  a  moment  his  carefully  framed 
and  braced  structure  of  social  morality,  to  arouse  him 
from  his  calm  self-satisfaction,  and  to  call  forth  this 
whole  chain  of  troublesome  reminiscences.  It  appeared 
to  him  as  if  she  took  possession  of  his  heart  again,  enter- 
ing it  as  her  rightful  property,  her  well-known,  custom- 
ary home,  of  which  she  could  dispose  as  her  own,  driv- 
ing from  it  all  others.  But  where  was  she?  In  the 
hands  of  savages,  in  captivity?  Was  she  alive  or  dead  — 
had  the  suffering  mother's  heart  been  quieted  forever? 
And  that  child —  his  son,  where  was  he? 

A  groan  of  anguish  escaped  from  the  officer's  breast 
—  a  groan  so  loud  that  it  was  heard  beyond  the  tent. 
The  side-whiskered  orderly  dreaming  upon  his  felt- 
mat  was  startled,  and  sprang  to  his  feet,  seized  the  sam- 
ovar, in  which  the  coals  had  long  since  become  extinct, 
and  ran  against  his  master  in  the  entrance  of  the  tent. 

The  officer  sallied  forth  with  a  buoyant  step,  inhal- 
ing with  evident  delight  the  fresh  evening  air  scented 
with  the  tar-like  odor  of  mulberry-trees.  He  stood 
for  a  few  moments  near  the  entrance,  and  then  began 
slowly  to  pace  the  well-trodden  path  meandering 
between  the  knotty,  rough  trunks  of  the  trees. 

"A  strange  day  this  has  been!"  muttered  the 
orderly,  as  he  returned  the  samovar  to  its  proper 
place. 

The  officer  was  an  old  acquaintance,  Sergei  Nikolai'e- 
vitch  Rovitch. 


246  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF.  * 

CHAPTER   XLII. 

DOSTCHAK    AND    HIS   BAGGAGE. 

DURING  the  same  night  a  shot  was  heard  on  the 
outer  picket-line  of  the  Cossack  camp.  This  alarming 
sound  came  near  bringing  the  whole  force  to  its  feet, 
but  the  excitement  speedily  subsided  when  the  cause 
of  the  alarm  was  explained. 

The  sentry  had  fired  at  a  suspicious  horseman  who 
was  riding  along  the  picket-line.  The  man  had  made  no 
reply,  though  challenged  three  times,  and  had  endeav- 
ored to  hide  behind  the  walls  of  some  building.  The 
bullet  from  the  Cossack's  carbine  prevented  him  from 
carrying  out  this  intention.  He  fell  from  the  saddle 
like  a  bag,  while  his  horse  galloped  along,  scattering 
his  master's  baggage  over  the  road.  The  first  object 
to  fall  was  a  large  leather  bag,  which  was  immediately 
picked  up  by  the  men  who  had  been  alarmed  by  the 
Cossack's  shot.  They  also  raised  the  body  of  the  rash 
rider,  from  which  life  had  already  fled. 

In  the  darkness  it  could  only  be  surmised  that  the 
horseman  was  not  one  of  ours,  and  thereupon  the 
alarm  subsided.  When  the  Cossacks  looked  into  the 
satchel  they  spit  out  in  disgust  and  flung  their  find 
away. 

"That  is  not  very  nice,  boys!"  remarked  the  old 
sergeant,  "  but  there  must  be  some  proceedings  about 
this;  it  must  be  reported  to  the  Sotnik  (captain).  Bring 
back  here  what  you  threw  away,  brethren;  some  investi- 
gation may  come  out  of  this.  Put  it  down  here,  beside 
the  body." 


DOSTCHAK    AND    HIS    BAGGAGE.  247 

"  Oh,  what  a  stench!  "  complained  the  Cossack  as  he 
executed  his  superior's  orders.  "  Why  did  that  devil 
carry  such  baggage  as  that  about  with  him? " 

They  laid  out  the  man  who  had  been  killed,  placing 
beside  him  his  satchel,  covered  both  objects  with  a 
blanket,  and  posted  a  sentry  to  guard  them. 

In  the  morning,  at  daylight,  people  began  to  gather 
around  the  scene  of  the  night's  disturbance,  and  among 
them  were  some  who  recognized  the  dead  man,  as  well 
as  the  contents  of  his  satchel.  The  dead  man  was  old 
Dostchak.  In  the  satchel  lay  the  head  of  Atam  Kul, 
the  two-legged  wolf. 

"Ah!  fate,  fate!"  sighed  Major  Pugovitzin  a  few 
hours  later  in  his  tent. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Major  Birnaps;  "  if  he  had  not  been 
killed  by  that  shot  we  might  have  heard  something  of 
Natalia  Martinovna!  " 

"  It's  fate!  "  repeated  Pugovitzin.  "  Let  us  go  to  Gol- 
ovin.  They  say  the  poor  fellow  is  so  much  overcome 
with  what  has  happened  that  he  may  not  survive  the 
excitement." 

"  I  can  not  understand  it,"  Kustikof  broke  in,  with 
some  heat.  "  Why  can  not  something  be  done?  We 
might,  for  instance,  surround  the  whole  Turkoman 
steppe,  round  up  all  the  settlements,  and  subject  every 
individual  to  the  strictest  examination  —  we  should 
come  upon  her  track  somewhere;  we  should  know 
something;  but  if  there  is  no  effort  made  — 

"You  are  perfectly  right!  "  replied  Pugovitzin,  quite 
seriously.  "  Two  months  ago  —  I  do  not  exactly  remem- 
ber where,  but  it  was  somewhere  near  Kuzil-Kumakh  — 
I  lost  a  button  from  my  blouse.  We  might  have  sur- 
rounded the  steppe,  scratched  the  sand  with  our  ringers 


248  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

or  passed  it  through  a  screen,  and  then  we  should  have 
certainly  found  my  button." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  Major  Birnaps,  holding  his 
shaking  stomach  between  his  hands. 

"  You  are  always  making  a  joke  of  it!  "  complained 
Kustikof,  and  turned  away.  All  three  then  proceeded 
to  Golovin's  quarters  to  offer  what  consolation  they 
could. 

The  accident  of  the  preceding  night  had  affected  him 
so  seriously  that  he  was  confined  to  his  bed  by  the 
doctor's  orders,  chiefly  because  he  really  could  not  keep 
his  feet  under  repeated  attacks  of  fever  brought  on  by 
this  new  shock  to  his  nerves. 

There  was  but  very  little  hope  of  the  Cossack's  final 
recovery.  The  most  sanguine  among  the  physicians 
belonging  to  the  expedition  expressed  the  opinion  that 
only  a  miracle  could  save  his  life;  and  a  miracle  was 
scarcely  to  be  expected  in  these  prosaic  times. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

EXCITEMENT    AND    GATHERINGS. 

THE  whole  camp  was  in  a  fever  of  excitement. 
"Marching  orders"  could  be  heard  from  one  end  to 
the  other,  in  the  messes,  in  the  officers'  tents,  along  the 
Cossack  picket-ropes,  and  among  the  artillerymen 
camped  between  their  guns  and  caissons,  as  well  as 
under  the  low  shelter-tents  of  the  infantrymen,  who 
were  greasing  their  high  boots,  as  the  most  important 
thing  to  be  done  at  the  first  hint  of  a  possible  march. 


EXCITEMENT    AND    GATHERINGS.  249 

"  Who  will  go  and  who  will  stay  behind? " 

"  Does  your  battalion  go?  " 

"  Truly,  the  riflemen  are  lucky  again!  The  devil  take 
them!  " 

"  Let  somebody  go  to  headquarters  to  ascertain  what, 
who,  and  how! " 

"  Ten  guns  are  going,  you  say? " 

"There's  bad  luck  —  my  bay  has  fallen  lame.  The 
plague  take  him!  It's  the  same  every  time." 

Nothing  but  such  abrupt,  doubting  or  hopeful  expres- 
sions could  be  heard  throughout  the  long  camp  which 
had  enfolded  Khiva  within  its  lines  for  the  last  half- 
month. 

The  Turkomans  were  unruly  again.  They  had  flatly 
refused  to  pay  the  war-indemnity  imposed  upon  them, 
and  the  Russian  spies  were  bringing  in  the  most  alarm- 
ing news.  Those  in  highest  authority  were  uneasy;  the 
subaltern  officers  and  soldiers  were  boisterous,  talking, 
and  shaking  each  other's  hands  in  congratulation.  It 
was  no  joke  to  remain  for  a  whole  month  for  nothing, 
without  anything  to  do.  It  would  be  all  right  at  some 
other  place,  in  permanent  quarters  —  there  you  could 
occupy  yourself  with  something;  but  to  be  stuck  here 
in  the  burning  sun,  without  stirring  forward  or  back- 
ward—  it  was  no  wonder  they  were  happy!  The  Turk- 
omans, the  dear  fellows,  are  making  trouble.  Well,  let 
us  go  to  them,  into  their  camps  and  pastures;  a  week  or 
two  can  be  passed  away  nicely  in  that  way.  We  will  see 
new  places,  and,  God  willing,  there  will  be  a  little 
shooting  —  that  is  always  good  for  the  service. 

"  Listen,  Brother  Raskatof,"  said  Pugovitzin  to  his 
sergeant-major.  "  In  the  first  place,  not  a  single  boot 
must  be  found  gaping  in  our  battalion.  Let  that  be 
understood!  I  shall  look  to  it  myself .  If  anybody  fails 


250  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

to  mend  his  boots  he'll  not  go  to  the  front;  he  may  stay 
with  the  invalids!  " 

"  I  hear,  sir,  your  honor,"  replied  the  red-whiskered 
sergeant-major. 

"  There  must  be  nothing  superfluous  in  the  baggage. 
I  shall  inspect  knapsacks  on  the  road,  and  all  trash  will 
be  thrown  away  on  the  spot." 

"  I  hear,  your  honor." 

"Two  shirts  each;  hard  bread  for  five  days.  Full 
allowance  of  ammunition  and  one-half  allowance  extra; 
twenty  rounds  in  the  knapsack — but  look  to  it  that 
there  are  no  '  misfires.'  '  Tea  and  sugar  '  money  will 
be  issued  in  the  evening.  Send  the  platoon  leaders  to 
me.  Do  you  understand? " 

"  I  understand,  your  honor." 

"Well,  off  with  you,  then,  and  hurry  up!  " 

"Yes,  gentlemen,  we  can't  do  otherwise,"  remarked 
the  major  to  a  group  of  officers,  as  if  justifying  himself 
for  attending  to  such  details.  "  Unless  we  tell  them 
about  every  trifle  every  time,  there'll  always  be  trouble 
afterward." 

"  You  are  right!  "  consented  one  of  the  officers.  "  It 
is  necessary  to  be  prepared." 

"  They  are  trifles,"  remarked  another,  "  only  in 
themselves:  as  a  whole  they  may  decide  the  fate  of  an 
army." 

"  Have  you  seen  Birnaps,  gentlemen?  He  is  almost 
crazy." 

"Why?" 

"  His  battalion  again  remains  behind.  It  seems  an 
injustice.  He  will  not  stand  it." 

"  Well,  brother,  as  to  not  standing  it  — 

"  He  is  very  much  excited.      He  keeps  running  to 


EXCITEMENT    AND    GATHERINGS.  251 

headquarters  and  begging.  I  met  him  to-day;  he 
would  not  bow,  but  turned  so  red!  " 

"  Now  it  will  again  be  said  that  there  has  been 
intrigue.  It  is  ridiculous,  but,  all  the  same,  gentle- 
men, it  seems  a  little  hard.  Just  judge  for  your- 
selves." 

"  Oh,  nonsense!  Who  was  sent  as  advance-guard  on 
the  1 6th?  Who  went  to  Khazar-Asp?  Enough  of  your 
intrigues!  We  all  must  take  our  turns.  Will  you  lend 
me  your  revolver?  The  cylinder  of  mine  does  not  turn 
well." 

"  I'll  not  give  it  to  you." 

"  Well,  the  devil  take  you!  —  I  do  not  need  it." 

"May  God  protect  you  all!"  shouted  Major  Pugo- 
vitzin,  finishing  up  his  instructions.  "  If  a  single  one  of 
you  gets  drunk  before  we  march,  may  God  have  mercy 
on  him!  We'll  eat  him  alive,  and  the  dog  will  never 
be  heard  of  again!  God  preserve  you!  " 

"And  do  you  know,"  said  Lieutenant  Kustikof  to 
the  lame  Cossack,  whom  he  was  visiting  in  his  tent  — 
"  do  you  know  it  is  devilish  hard  to  explain  it?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean? "  asked  Golovin,  listlessly. 
"  What  do  you  refer  to?  " 

"  Oh,  I  have  been  thinking,  but  really  we  can  not 
count  upon  it  with  any  certainty  —  however — " 

"  Your  tongue  seems  to  be  all  tangled  up.    Let  it  be! " 

"  At  least,"  muttered  Kustikof,  as  if  talking  to  him- 
self, "  there  is  no  certainty  about  it."  And  then  he  ran 
off  to  communicate  his  doubts  and  hopes  to  somebody 
else  with  better  success. 

"  We  are  going  into  the  very  center  of  their  pasture- 
lands,"  he  said  a  few  minutes  later  to  another  officer. 
"  The  cavalry  has  received  orders  to  move  around  at  a 


252  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

trot  and  take  them  in  the  flank.  They  may  succeed  in 
capturing  them  in  their  houses,  and  unexpectedly." 

"Impossible,  brother;  and  besides — " 

"  Oh,  yes;  that  is  what  I  was  going  to  say.  We  can 
not  count  with  certainty  upon  anything,  but  they  may 
be  surrounded  and  captured,  and  not  a  single  soul 
allowed  to  escape.  In  the  meantime  we  can  search  all 
the  by-ways,  and  perhaps  —  if  one  were  only  lucky 
enough!  I  should  refuse  any  rewards  that  might  be 
offered  —  I  should  want  nothing;  and,  after  all,  it  may 
happen!  "  Here  poor  Kustikof's  doubts  again  over- 
came his  hopes,  and  a  sad  expression  once  more  over- 
spread his  features,  when  the  man  he  was  addressing 
unexpectedly  replied,  "  Well,  don't  worry.  It  is  an 
affair  of  state,  don't  you  see? "  His  troubled  heart 
was  much  relieved  when  he  found  that  some  one  shared 
his  hopes  as  to  the  rescue  of  Natalia  Martinovna. 

But  if  the  junior  lieutenant  had  possessed  a  better 
knowledge  of  human  nature  he  would  have  known  that 
the  same  hopes  fluttered  in  every  heart  without  excep- 
tion; that  this  hope  was  not  only  stirring  in  the  lame 
Cossack's  heart,  but  filled  it  completely,  to  the  exclusion 
of  all  other  thoughts;  that  there  was  not  a  single 
skeptic  who  dared  ridicule  this  hope.  The  only  sad 
thing  about  it  was  that  this  hope  was  in  itself  so  feeble 
that  few  ventured  to  let  their  tongues  express  it.  It 
seemed  as  if  every  one  thought  that  if  he  only  kept 
silent  the  disappointment  would  be  easier  to  bear,  and, 
at  any  rate,  the  few  skeptics  would  be  deprived  of  the 
satisfaction  of  saying  in  case  of  disappointment,  "  Well, 
I  told  you  it  was  impossible!  " 

It  was  interesting  to  observe  that  all  conversations 
relating  to  this  secret  hope  were  conducted  in  general 
terms:  "  It  is  very  possible  that  it  may  happen,"  "  It 


EXCITEMENT    AND    GATHERINGS.  253 

would  be  glorious  if  it  were  to  happen,"  "  No,  that  is 
impossible,"  and  in  such  like  phrases,  nobody  making 
any  distinct  or  definite  assertion,  nobody  daring  to 
to  pronounce  the  well-known,  cherished  name. 

Only  among  the  common  soldiers  one  would  occa- 
sionally hear  a  plain  expression  of  their  strong  feeling 
on  this  subject: 

"  Oh,  if  we  should  be  able  to  rescue  her,  our  little 
gray  one!  " 

The  expedition  was  to  march  at  night,  long  before 
daylight.  The  night  was  dark,  without  moon.  The 
infantry  began  its  movement  with  very  little  noise; 
company  after  company  filed  into  the  road  to  Kungrad. 
This  was  not  the  real  objective  point  of  the  expedition; 
later,  in  due  time,  it  was  proposed  to  turn  to  the  left, 
toward  Chandir. 

Between  the  walls  lining  the  road  a  moving  mass  of 
somewhat  lighter  tint  could  be  seen  through  the  dark- 
ness. This  was  the  white  blouses,  loaded  down  with 
their  knapsacks  and  tents.  Cannons  were  moving 
along  almost  without  noise,  leaving  deep  wheel-tracks 
in  the  light,  dusty  soil  of  the  road.  In  places,  where 
the  wells  had  been  destroyed  and  there  were  no  trees,  a 
few  indistinct  outlines  and  profiles  could  be  distin- 
guished against  the  sky,  interspersed  here  and  there 
with  other  forms  and  shapes  —  the  barrels  of  guns,  with 
bayonets  fixed,  carried  at  various  angles.  Occasionally 
the  rugged  folds  of  company  guidons  would  loom  up, 
or  the  shaggy  knob  of  a  gunner's  sponge.  Horsemen 
appeared  like  silhouettes  cut  from  black  paper,  only  to 
disappear  and  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  solid  mass  of 
darkness.  All  these  were  moving  along  quietly,  but 


254  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

uninterruptedly  —  there  was  no  talking  and  no  singing, 
the  usual  accompaniments  of  ordinary  inarches. 

They  went  along  groping  their  way,  cautiously  mov- 
ing ahead.  It  was  very  dark  everywhere,  but  the 
gloom  was  increased  by  the  dense  clouds  of  dust  rising 
from  under  the  feet  of  the  infantrymen  and  the  wheels 
of  the  cannons.  It  became  impossible  to  see  anything. 
They  began  to  stumble  against  each  other  —  the  man  in 
rear  would  run  into  the  man  in  front;  and  oftener  and 
oftener  could  be  heard  the  metallic  click  of  weapons 
clashing  together,  and  warning  cries,  "  Easy  there; 
don't  hurry  so!  What  are  you  doing  in  front  there! 
Carefully! " 

Like  small  signal-fires  shone  here  and  there,  higher 
or  lower,  the  red  glimmer  of  the  soldier's  pipe  or  the 
officer's  cigarette.  By  these  bright  sparks  the  move- 
ment of  the  whole  dark  mass  could  be  observed;  they 
were  evidently  moving  ahead,  though  to  the  casual 
observer  it  must  have  appeared  at  the  first  glance  as  if 
this  whole  chaos,  though  it  surged,  and  rustled,  and 
gave  forth  other  more  indistinct  sounds,  was  not  advanc- 
ing at  all,  but  merely  tramping  and  stamping  in  one 
and  the  same  spot  forever. 

When  inclined  to  sleep  and  struggling  against  irre- 
sistible drowsiness,  the  horseman  may  assume  various 
attitudes  —  more  or  less  comfortable  —  in  his  saddle 
which  will  enable  him  to  yield  temporarily  and  trust  to 
his  horse's  sagacity.  When  the  infantryman  wishes  to 
doze  he  must  do  so  walking,  and  he  does  it,  waking 
occasionally  and  glancing  about  stupidly  without,  for 
the  first  moment,  recognizing  his  surroundings  or 
knowing  who  he  is  or  where  he  is  going.  A  night 
march,  especially  in  the  summer,  when  the  whole 
atmosphere  is  filled  with  dense  clouds  of  suffocating 


EXCITEMENT    AND    GATHERINGS.  255 

dust,  impeding  respiration,  is  a  wearisome  toil.  Each 
verst  traveled  under  such  conditions  is  at  least  equal  to 
five  made  under  more  favorable  circumstances.  As  the 
soldiers  express  it  graphically:  "  You  march  and 
march,  and  wonder  how  many  versts  you  are  making. 
Then  comes  the  sun,  and  you  see  that  you  have  ad- 
vanced only  two  versts  from  your  starting-point." 
The  soldiers  do  not  like  —  they  very  much  dislike  — 
night  marches. 

From  the  rear  came  the  thunder  of  some  large  force 
approaching,  and  now  catching  up  with  the  infantry. 
Precautionary  words  of  command  were  heard,  "  To  the 
right  and  left  —  give  way!  Step  aside;  clear  the 
road!  "  But  how?  To  the  right  and  left  are  high  walls, 
and  where  the  walls  are  not,  there  you  find  deep  ditches, 
with  water  glistening  in  the  bottom,  and  the  foot  sinks 
deeply  into  the  yielding  mud.  Somehow  the  infantrymen 
squeezed  themselves  against  the  walls,  leaving  a  narrow 
space  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  and  along  this  space  a 
mass  of  horsemen  was  now  advancing.  Horses  snorted 
and  neighed,  sabers  rattled  in  their  metallic  scabbards; 
a  few  figures  rose  in  their  stirrups,  and  hurried  excla- 
mations were  exchanged  in  loud  whispers. 

" Good  luck  to  the  infantry!  What  battalion  is  this?" 
In  answer  there  came  from  the  several  ranks,  in  a  muf- 
fled roar,  "  We  wish  you  good  health,  your  Excellency!  " 

The  commander-in-chief  and  his  suite  passed  by. 
Looming  up  high  into  the  air  above  the  columns  waved 
the  general's  flag,  and  the  infantry  closed  in  behind 
them,  once  more  a  solid  mass,  and  again  began  to 
move. 

But  something  is  coming  up  in  their  rear;  the  earth 
fairly  trembles  with  the  stamping  of  numberless  hoofs. 
Again  the  order,  "  To  the  right  and  left  —  give  way!  " 


256  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

This  was  the  cavalry  force,  which  had  marched  some 
time  after  the  infantry,  and  had  received  orders  to  catch 
up  with  them  and  take  the  head  of  the  column. 

Thicker  and  thicker  rose  the  dust  —  adjoining  files 
could  no  longer  see  each  other;  a  suffocating  cough 
seemed  to  rend  the  lungs  of  the  tortured  men;  the  teeth, 
covered  with  grit,  were  grating  against  each  other,  and 
all  throats  were  drying  up. 

"  The  devil  may  take  these  Cossacks!  " 

"  Be  still,  you  flat-foot — make  room;  that's  it!  " 

"Easy,  you  devil;  your  horse  stepped  on  my  foot, 
and  now  you  knock  against  my  eye!  Don't  you  see?" 

"  May  the  wolves  eat  you!  Are  there  many  more  of 
you?  " 

"  Don't  get  mad,  towney ;  what  are  you  growling  about? 
Why  don't  you  go  on?  After  us  there  are  three  more 
companies." 

"  Oh,  for  a  drop  of  water  to  moisten  the  throat!  Eh, 
Mitka,  is  there  not  a  drop  left  in  your  canteen? " 

"  Here,  take  it ;  there  is  just  a  little." 

"  Go  on,  Cossacks,  go  on!     Why  do  you  stop?  " 

"  Close  up  your  ranks!  " 

The  Cossacks  were  past.  The  dust  began  to  settle  a 
little.  Far  away,  just  above  the  horizon,  a  faint  streak 
of  light  appeared,  the  precursor  of  dawn.  The  endless 
confining  walls  began  to  disappear  and  the  road  became 
wider.  A  fresh  breeze  sprang  up  and  a  grateful  moist- 
ure arose  from  some  lake  or  pond  to  their  right.  The 
birds,  awakening  from  their  brief  slumber,  glanced 
timidly  at  the  moving  masses.  A  flock  of  sparrows 
rose  noisily  from  the  tops  of  wide-branching  plantains, 
a  stork  was  chattering  upon  his  uncouth  nest;  some- 
where in  the  distance  the  native  dogs  were  howling. 

"  Halt!  "  came  the  long-expected  and  wished-for  com- 


AND    WHAT    IF ?  257 

mand.     "  Prepare  to  take  breath,  boys,  until  the  rear 
of  the  column  conies  up!  " 

Joy  and  satisfaction  again  filled  the  hearts  of  the 
soldiers;  all  the  tortures  and  miseries  of  the  night 
march  were  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

AND    WHAT    IF ? 

SERGEI  NIKOLAIEVITCH  ROVITCH  was  on  the  staff, 
and  at  this  moment  found  himself  a  member  of  the 
general's  suite,  being  among  those  horsemen  who  had 
overtaken  the  infantry.  Though  ill,  with  a  nervous 
system  very  much  shattered,  he  had  himself  requested 
to  be  ordered  on  this  march,  in  the  hope  of  forgetting 
as  far  as  possible,  among  the  vivid  and  constantly 
changing  impressions  of  a  campaign,  the  anguish  and 
remorse  that  weighed  upon  his  brain  and  heart  and 
pervaded  his  whole  being  ever  since  that  moment  when 
fate  brought  him  in  contact  with  some  one  who  by  a 
casual  remark  recalled  to  his  mind  a  chain  of  memories 
which  under  ordinary  conditions  he  would  have  re- 
viewed with  the  self-complacent  smile  of  a  roue  boast- 
ing of  a  successful  intrigue. 

But  now,  much  to  his  own  surprise,  these  very  rem- 
iniscences created  in  him  the  most  profound,  unbear- 
able remorse  and  self-reproach,  and  served  as  a  grim 
prompter,  pursuing  him  every  minute  of  the  day  and 
robbing  him  of  his  sleep,  completely  transforming  his 
usually  careless,  joyous,  and  self -con  tented  disposition. 


258  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  If  you  are  ill,"  the  general  had  said  to  him  the  pre- 
vious day,  glancing  at  his  pale,  haggard  face,  "  you  may 
stay  behind." 

"  I  thank  you,  your  Excellency!  "  replied  Rovitch,  and 
at  once  prepared  for  the  march. 

The  universal  question  of  "  And  what  if — "  was  also 
present  in  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch's  mind,  but  in  his  case 
it  served  to  electrify  his  whole  nature,  to  rouse  his 
energy  and  restore  his  strength,  which  had  begun 
to  suffer  from  sleepless  nights  and  the  morbid  concen- 
tration of  his  thoughts  upon  one  fatal  subject.  A  cer- 
tain feeling  of  loathing  of  himself  grew  in  him  with 
every  minute,  which  he  fanned  and  strengthened  as  if 
he  found  in  it  some  consolation  and  relief  for  his  moral 
sufferings. 

"And  what  if-  He  resumed  his  mental  review  of 
a  whole  chain  of  contingencies.  Since  fate  had  carried 
him  here  and  brought  him  into  contact  with  people 
whom  he  had  forgotten  long  ago,  though  formerly  they 
were  quite  familiar  to  him,  was  it  not  plausible  that 
the  very  catastrophe  which  had  overwhelmed  Natalia 
Martinovna  was  intended  by  fate  to  bring  about  this 
moral  shock,  this  radical  revolution  in  his  sentiments? 
If  fate  should  have  reserved  for  him  that  once  dear, 
but  neglected  and  disgraced  being  —  what  then?  Ah! 
then  he  would  throw  himself  upon  his  knees  before 
her;  he  would  describe  to  her  all  the  torments  he  had 
undergone,  he  would  beg  for  her  forgiveness,  and  she 
—  good-hearted  and  loving  —  would  lift  his  heavy  bur- 
den and  extend  to  him  her  hand. 

With  what  mingled  rapture  and  contrition  he  would 
bend  over  that  hand  and  cover  it  with  untold  kisses; 
how  fervently  would  he  press  to  his  heart  that  other 
being  so  well  known  to  him!  My  God!  if  that  were 


AN    UNEXPECTED    AND    UNDESIRED    MOVE.  259 

« 

really  to  happen!  His  head  began  to  turn  around;  he 
seized  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  with  his  hand  to  keep 
from  falling.  This  occurred  just  as  they  were  passing 
through  the  open  ranks  of  the  infantry.  "  To  the  right 
and  left — give  way!"  resounded  Pugovitzin's  rough 
voice  almost  into  Rovitch's  ear. 

Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  recognized  the  voice.  He  turned 
pale,  and  instinctively  tried  to  hide  himself.  He  shrank 
from  observation  and  possible  recognition.  He  did 
not  consider  how  difficult  it  was  in  that  chaos  of  dust 
and  darkness  to  recognize  anybody.  He  passed  by 
Pugovitzin  as  a  criminal  yet  undiscovered  passes  by  a 
judge,  imagining  that  he  is  bending  upon  him  an  omi- 
nous look  — the  look  which  precedes  the  still  more 
ominous  words,  "  Stand  up,  man!  At  last  you  are  in 
the  power  of  the  law!  "  and  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  felt 
provoked  and  angry  at  the  streak  of  dawn  along  the 
horizon.  He  feared  the  sun,  which  prevented  him  from 
hiding,  from  remaining  unnoticed  and  unnamed.  Such 
a  mental  condition  might  result  in  insanity. 


CHAPTER   XLV. 

AN    UNEXPECTED    AND     UNDESIRED    MOVE. 

THE  communities  of  the  Yomud  Turkomans  were 
thoroughly  alarmed.  Couriers,  runners,  and  messengers 
from  Khiva  were  chasing  and  overtaking  each  other. 
It  was  impossible  to  analyze  their  hurried  and  conflict- 
ing reports,  but  one  ominous  sound,  one  warning  cry 
was  echoed  by  them  all,  "  Save  himself  who  may!  " 

17 


260  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

- 

One  of  them  said,  "  Our  people  have  resolved  not  to 
submit  to  the  Russians;  why  should  we  pay  them? 
Because  they  have  beaten  us,  and  have  come  to  our 
country  and  act  as  if  they  were  masters? " 

"  The  Russian  general  is  very  angry,"  said  another. 
"  They  are  getting  ready  to  come  after  us." 

"  Ah !  I  am  sorry  we  did  not  succeed  in  harvesting 
our  grain.  We  would  show  them,  the  infidel  dogs! 
what  it  means  to  thrust  their  noses  into  a  strange  hut! 
We  would  show  them,  and  Allah  would  help  us!  " 

"  They  are  already  on  the  march!  "  shouted  another 
courier.  "  They  are  coming!  In  two  days  they  will  be 
here.  Our  people  are  gathering  at  Takir  —  mounted 
men  and  infantry.  Why  are  you  sitting  here?  Move 
on!  Ismet  gave  orders  to  call  you  all." 

The  decision  of  the  elders  was:  "  Load  everything 
on  carts,  drive  your  cattle  together  in  herds,  and  move 
on  farther.  Let  the  dogs  find  an  empty  place.  Let 
them  burn  the  dry  dung  and  the  cinders  that  we  leave 
behind." 

"  They  want  to  capture  our  women  and  keep  them  as 
hostages!  "  was  the  opinion  of  many;  and  they  hastened, 
above  all,  to  conceal  their  families,  to  wander  with  them 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  steppes,  though  it  were  far 
beyond  the  cultivated  area  and  in  the  sandy  desert. 
"  They'll  not  find  us  there,  the  white  blouses!  " 

"  They  are  coming;  they  are  quite  near! "  was 
shouted  by  alarmed  voices.  "They  will  soon  over- 
take us! " 

"  No;  they  are  yet  far.  They  have  not  passed  Ulkun 
Arik  yet  —  that  is  not  very  near,  and  they  can  not  be 
here  very  soon,"  came  from  other  more  reassuring 
messengers. 

Soon  after  the  first  shouts  of  warning  the  turmoil 


AN    UNEXPECTED    AND    UNDESIRED    MOVE.  261 

among-  the  pastoral  and  agricultural  communities 
became  terrible.  The  people  were  crowding  together, 
running  to  and  fro,  not  knowing  where  and  how  to 
begin  this  sudden  and  unexpected  packing  up  and 
carrying  away  of  their  portable  huts  and  household 
goods. 

Later  reports  restored  quiet  to  a  certain  extent,  and 
gave  the  elders  an  opportunity  to  consider  the  route  to 
be  taken  in  their  retreat,  and  to  start  off  their  trains 
in  the  most  convenient  and  promising  direction.  They 
had  to  abandon  a  fruitful  settled  region,  abounding  in 
water,  and  go  into  the  sandy  desert.  This  made  it 
imperative  to  provide  all  necessaries,  not  only  for  them- 
selves, but  also  for  their  cattle,  otherwise  they  would 
fly  into  the  desert  from  their  dreaded  enemy  —  the 
white  blouses  —  only  to  find  themselves  confronted  by 
other  enemies  no  less  terrible,  hunger  and  thirst. 

In  the  meantime  the  Russians  were  marching,  always 
marching,  without  stopping  or  giving  the  Turkomans 
time  to  organize,  and  spreading  panic  and  consternation 
before  them. 

Thus  far  the  white  blouses  had  not  seen  a  single 
enemy;  not  a  single  one  of  the  rifle-barrels  cleaned  so 
carefully  in  Khiva  had  been  blackened  anew  by  the 
discharge  of  a  shot,  not  a  cannon  had  been  unlimbered; 
but  among  the  tribes  of  the  Yomud  Turkomans,  the 
Chodor  and  Solor,  the  people  spoke  of  hearing  distant 
reports  of  cannons;  they  heard  them  plainly,  and  the 
firing  must  be  near,  perhaps  only  just  beyond  that  jagged 
range  of  sand-hills.  All  these  sounds  existed  only  in 
the  disordered  imagination  of  these  nomads,  who  had 
completely  lost  their  heads  over  the  occurrence  of  the 
unexpected  invasion,  which,  however,  they  could  have 
easily  foreseen  after  sending  to  the  Russian  general 


262  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

their  peremptory  refusal  to  submit  to  the  new  ordej  of 
things. 

A  large  Yomud  tribe  settled  near  Zmukshir  was  also 
preparing  to  move,  having  been  alarmed  by  these 
reports.  It  was  a  very  wealthy  tribe,  numbering  over 
two  hundred  huts  —  all  standing  wide  apart  from  each 
other  and  covering  a  large  space.  Zmukshir  was  a 
favorite  wintering-place  of  the  Turkomans,  to  judge 
from  the  permanent  improvements  made  —  their  large 
court-yards  surrounded  by  mud  walls,  vast  sheds,  and 
even  a  few  houses.  There  was  also  a  permanent  bazaar, 
to  which  the  people  of  the  neighborhood  resorted  twice 
a  week,  bringing  their  produce  and  driving  up  their 
cattle  to  exchange  them  for  wares  brought  by  merchants 
from  Khiva. 

The  settlement  was  encircled  by  bright-green  fields, 
laid  out  in  rectangular  sections,  and  presenting  a  pleas- 
ing picture,  breathing  peace  and  plenty.  Between  the 
fields  meandered  countless  irrigating  ditches,  like  silvery 
arteries,  covering  the  cultivated  lands  with  a  perfect 
network.  Here  and  there  sparkled  square  ponds,  or 
reservoirs,  their  banks  planted  with  trees.  The  wheat 
was  ripening,  and  exhibited  a  rich  golden  tint  as  it 
swayed  gently  before  the  breeze.  The  black  roofs  of 
the  huts,  resembling  the  tops  of  mushrooms,  loomed  up 
among  the  fields;  columns  of  smoke  from  kitchen- 
fires  were  rising  everywhere  —  all  was  life  and  anima- 
tion. Herds  of  horned  cattle  and  sheep  were  grazing 
in  the  immediate  vicinity,  surrounding  the  whole  set- 
tlement with  a  living  circle;  and  now  all  this  had  to  be 
removed  at  once. 

They  took  down  the  huts,  loading  the  separate  pieces 
upon  carts;  upon  others  they  placed  bundles  of  pro- 


AN    UNEXPECTED    AND    UNDESIRED    MOVE.  263 

visions  and  clothing,  chests,  rolls  of  carpets,  and  mats. 
They  even  hastily  cut  the  yet  immature  wheat  to  keep 
it  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  "  giaours." 

The  women  were  busy  about  the  carts  and  the  dis- 
memberment of  the  huts;  the  men  were  driving  up  the 
cattle,  or  simply  galloping  about  the  settlement  to 
hurry  and  drive  the  women,  who  were  already  losing 
their  heads  in  the  general  bustle  and  flurry. 

Not  many  men  were  left  with  the  tribe;  they  ordi- 
narily counted  three  hundred  mounted  men,  but  at  the 
present  moment  they  could  scarcely  collect  thirty,  all 
told.  The  remainder  had  gone  to  the  rallying-points 
under  the  banners  of  Ismet,  Irtik-Mergen,  and  other 
chiefs  who  had  not  yet  given  up  their  hopes  of  arresting 
the  Russians  in  their  progress,  and  of  making  them 
feel  their  strength,  with  the  help  of  Allah,  and  thus 
extinguish  for  a  long  time  to  come  all  desire  to  invade 
their  rich  fields  and  pastures,  heretofore  considered 
beyond  the  reach  of  any  enemy. 

About  fifteen  carts,  not  yet  hitched  up,  but  ready  for 
the  road,  were  standing  in  several  rows  upon  a  small 
well-trampled  space  in  front  of  a  detached  group  of 
huts.  The  felt  roofs  had  already  been  removed  from 
some  of  the  latter,  and  the  bare  concentric  rafters 
resembled  a  huge  bird-cage  constructed  of  red  poles. 
The  women,  in  white  turbans  or  with  colored  kerchiefs 
tied  about  their  heads,  were  hard  at  work  rolling  the 
felt  covering  of  the  huts  into  cylindrical  shape;  others 
were  collecting  one  by  one  the  pegs  and  spikes  and 
tying  them  into  bundles,  while  others  again  were  car- 
rying to  the  carts  large  iron-bound  chests,  painted  in 
bright  colors,  chiefly  red  and  gold.  All  this  was  depos- 
ited there  to  be  packed  into  the  vehicles  in  a  more  sys- 
tematic and  orderly  manner. 


264  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Domestic  fowls  —  hens  with  their  broods  of  chicks, 
tame  pheasants,  and  guinea-hens  —  were  noisily  running 
about  between  the  bundles  and  carts,  getting  under  the 
feet  of  the  bustling  people.  Emaciated  greyhounds 
whined  pitifully  while  looking  at  all  this  excitement. 
Half -naked  children  gathered  in  groups,  gazing  with 
wide-open,  astonished  eyes  at  what  was  going  on 
before  them,  unable  to  understand  the  meaning  of 
this  strange,  untimely  move  made  by  their  fathers  and 
mothers.  Here  and  there,  in  the  glaring  sun,  could  be 
seen  cradles  for  infants,  and  in  these  cradles  were 
squirming  and  feeding  dusky  little  bodies,  with  their 
small  arms  and  legs  entangled  in  wraps  and  rags. 
Several  of  them  had  succeeded  in  making  their  escape 
from  their  cradles,  and,  unnoticed  by  their  toiling 
mothers,  were  groveling  in  the  dust  and  digging  into 
the  piles  of  half-dried  dung. 

Another  rider  came  up,  the  flanks  of  his  horse 
white  with  foam,  and  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
"  Hurry,  hurry!  Aren't  you  ready  yet? "  He  struck 
his  horse  with  the  whip  and  galloped  on  straight  ahead, 
over  bales  and  across  ditches,  not  going  out  of  his  way 
to  warn  others.  This  cry  caused  everybody  to  work 
with  redoubled  haste  and  feverish  activity.  The  loads 
on  the  carts  rose  higher  and  higher  until  they  loomed 
up  like  small  hills  above  the  great  wooden  wheels. 
They  began  to  lash  them  down  with  ropes.  It  was 
only  necessary  to  drive  up  the  horses  and  oxen  to  drag 
away  all  this  property  piled  up  for  removal.  Some  of 
the  carts  had  been  provided  with  covers  of  cotton 
cloth,  stretched  over  uprights;  these  vehicles  were 
intended  for  the  families  —  the  wives  and  children; 
they  were  passenger-carts.  A  majority  of  the  women, 
however,  saddled  horses  for  themselves  and  mounted 


AN    UNEXPECTED    AND    UNDES1RED    MOVE.  265 

them,  sometimes  two  together,  one  in  the  saddle,  the 
other  on  the  horse's  croup,  holding  onto  the  girdle  of 
the  woman  in  front. 

More  horsemen  came  galloping  up.  "  What  is  the 
matter  with  you,  you  lazy  cows?  Are  you  coming  soon? 
You  must  be  off  before  the  sun  sets,  and  keep  on  all 
night  so  as  to  get  well  away!  " 

"Look  out!  They  may  catch  you  to-morrow  morn- 
ing; they  are  quite  near.  They  have  already  captured 
the  Budai'  tribe;  they  cut  them  off  from  the  road. 
Hurry,  hurry!  " 

The  oxen  and  horses  were  speedily  driven  up  to  the 
carts;  clouds  of  dust  arose  over  the  settlement,  stirred 
up  by  the  feet  of  the  animals.  The  confusion  increased. 
The  oxen  were  all  small  and  low,  but  muscular  and 
strong;  each  of  them  bore  a  saddle  with  a  great  wooden 
horn  in  front;  on  their  necks  were  felt  collars;  the 
harness  was  of  rope  with  wooden  fastenings.  The  well- 
trained  animals  stood  quietly  among  all  this  hubbub; 
the  horses  were  snorting,  stamping,  and  biting  at  each 
other  whenever  they  came  within  reach;  the  oxen  bel- 
lowed at  times,  and  sniffed  with  their  nostrils,  cruelly 
torn  by  the  iron  rings  or  rough  ropes  fastened  into 
them.  For  some  of  the  vehicles  there  were  not  cattle 
enough. 

"  Well,  those  will  have  to  be  left."  Another  horse- 
man came  racing.  "  Not  ready  yet?  Throw  away 
everything!  "  But  it  was  a  pity  to  throw  such  things 
away.  It  seemed  as  if  fate  had  willed  it  that  the  carts 
still  left  contained  all  that  was  most  dear  and  precious 
to  the  owners  —  clothing  and  metallic  utensils.  Then 
was  begun  a  hurried  repacking.  Bales  were  unlashed; 
cups  and  flasks  and  teakettles  fell  jingling  and  rattling 
to  the  ground;  cloaks  and  shining  silk  trousers  were 


266  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

ruthlessly  trampled  into  the  dust  and  dirt.  The  women 
were  enraged  over  this  waste,  and  reproachful  and 
angry  cries  were  heard. 

One  woman  only  in  the  whole  community  listened 
with  calm  apathy  to  all  this  uproar.  She  sat  upon  the 
ground  like  a  statue;  her  hands  were  unconsciously 
stroking  the  hair  of  a  child  that  was  clinging  to  her. 

"  Why  are  you  sitting  there  with  idle  hands? "  an  old 
Turkoman  hag  shouted  into  her  ear.  "Here,  carry 
this!  "  throwing  her  a  bag  and  hastening  on  farther  her- 
self, scolding,  and  threatening  to  beat  somebody.  The 
woman  rose  to  her  feet  and  seized  the  bag.  It  was  too 
heavy;  she  could  not  lift  it.  She  dragged  it  along  — 
she  did  not  know  where.  The  child  put  up  his  little 
arms  to  help;  he  did  not  cry,  but  looked  quite  serious, 
as  if  he  knew  that  this  was  no  time  for  tears.  The 
eyes  of  this  boy  did  not  resemble  those  of  the  other 
children  —  they  were  large  and  blue;  and  the  hair  on  his 
head  was  fair,  not  black  and  closely  cropped.  His 
mother  also  had  bright  strands  of  hair  hanging  over 
her  shoulders,  entirely  uncovered;  but  they  concealed 
the  rents  in  her  garment,  which  was  torn  and  worn  and 
of  indistinguishable  hue. 

"  Bring  it  here,  you  Russian  slut! "  cried  from  the 
cart  a  stout,  ruddy  Turkoman  woman  with  her  arms 
set  akimbo.  Her  turban  had  slipped  to  one  side,  and 
her  braids,  wound  with  beads,  were  fluttering  in  the 
wind;  her  face  was  covered  with  a  paste  of  dust  and 
perspiration. 

"Not  there!  Here!"  cried  another,  tall  and  well- 
shaped,  rattling  with  bracelets  and  innumerable  coins 
and  trinkets  sewed  all  over  the  bosom  and  border  of 
her  upper  garment. 

"Stand  aside,  or  I  run  over  you!  "  shouted  a  third, 


ENEMIES.  267 

laughing-,  and  curveting  upon  a  piebald  stallion  loaded 
from  tail  to  ears  with  cloths  and  carpets. 

"  Where  then? "  muttered  the  poor  woman. 

"  I'll  show  you!  "  some  one  snarled  behind  her,  deal- 
ing her  a  heavy  blew  with  the  end  of  a  rope. 

"  Do  not  bother  with  her,"  advised  a  very  young  girl, 
not  yet  fourteen,  who  was  seated  under  the  cover  of 
one  of  the  carts.  "  Leave  her;  she  may  stay  here. 
The  Russians  will  not  hurt  her;  she  is  one  of  them. 
Leave  her!  " 

"Yes  —  leave  her  —  that  would  be  well,  indeed!" 
grumbled  the  old  woman.  "  Ibrahim  would  probably 
ask  me  for  her,  and  beat  me  on  her  account.  Get  up 
here  on  this  cart,  quick  —  take  your  brat — sit  here!  " 

The  sun  was  already  very  perceptibly  declining 
toward  the  horizon,  but  the  train  was  not  yet  under 
way.  A  few  carts  were  strung  out  along  the  road, 
waiting  for  the  others,  when  another  cloud  of  dust  arose 
in  the  distance.  Horsemen  came  galloping  by,  repeat- 
ing as  they  passed  the  old  cry: 

"Hurry!  they  are  near  now!  Throw  away  all,  and 
get*on! " 

It  was  already  dark  when  the  last  cart  filed  into  the 
road  and  hastened  to  catch  up  with  the  rear  end  of  the 
train  just  disappearing  over  the  nearest  hill. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

ENEMIES. 

SERGEI  NIKOLAIVITCH  ROVITCH  had  not  known  Golo- 
vin  during  his  former  sojourn  in  Central  Asia.     On  the 


268  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

present  occasion  he  had  easily  guessed  from  the  con- 
versations in  the  officers'  circles  what  were  the  feelings 
of  the  lame  Cossack  for  Natalia  Martinovna,  and  that 
knowledge  was  enough  to  arouse  in  Rovitch  a  strong 
dislike  of  his  rival.  The  dislike  grew  all  the  stronger 
when  he  learned  from  the  remarks  and  conversations 
to  which  he  so  eagerly  listened  that  Natalia,  at  least 
partially,  shared  Golovin's  feelings.  The  mere  thought 
of  this  goaded  him  to  desperation.  Thus  far,  however, 
he  had  avoided  all  meetings  with  his  rival  —  avoided 
them  very  carefully,  guarding  against  any  accident 
which  might  bring  them  together. 

Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  even  held  aloof  from  his  old 
Chiniaz  acquaintances,  and  ever  since  the  various  expe- 
ditions formed  a  junction  under  the  walls  of  Khiva, 
when  he  had  heard  of  their  presence  he  had  declined 
all  invitations  to  meet  any  of  them  or  to  enter  into  con- 
versation about  them. 

Feeling  instinctively  how  the  part  he  had  played 
appeared  in  their  eyes,  and  how  these  old  friends  of 
Natalia  Martinovna  must  look  upon  him,  he  brought 
himself  to  hate  and  despise  them  with  all  the  strength 
of  his  evil  mind.  Even  in  the  very  midst  of  his  ardent 
dreams  and  silent  vows  of  proposed  self-humiliation,  he 
always  cherished  one  idea  which  caused  an  ugly  sneer 
to  wreathe  his  lips:  "  What  a  joke  it  will  be  if  all 
these  friends  and  admirers,  the  lame  Cossack  included, 
come  out  of  this  as  losers;  and  what  faces  they  will 
make  when  I,  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  Rovitch,  shall  own 
their  precious  treasure,  their  '  holy  angel '  !  I  shall 
probably  not  get  out  of  this  without  a  duel,"  he  thought 
at  such  times;  and  this  after  consideration  threw  some 
ashes  upon  the  flame  of  his  desires. 

The  trifling  character  of  Sergei   Nikolai'evitch   dis- 


ENEMIES.  269 

played  itself  in  all  these  musings.  His  superficial 
nature  could  not  imagine  or  understand  that  if  in  one 
of  his  spells  of  self -accusation  and  humiliation  he  had 
openly  revealed  himself  to  this  circle  of  Natalia 
Martinovna's  friends,  if  he  had  confessed  himself  to 
be  such  as  he  saw  himself  in  his  remorseful,  sleepless 
nights,  he  would  probably  have  extinguished  at  once 
all  jealousy  in  their  hearts;  and  if  they,  on  the  other 
hand,  should  have  observed  a  revival  of  Natalia's  fond- 
ness for  the  father  of  her  child,  they  would  have  been 
the  first  to  extend  to  him  a  friendly,  helping  hand.  But 
this  natural,  straightforward  solution  of  the  difficulty 
was  not  within  the  power  of  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch. 

In  the  position  assumed  by  the  lame  Cossack  toward 
Rovitch  there  was  nothing  strained,  nothing  undecided. 
It  had  been  clearly  defined  long  since,  before  even 
Golovin  laid  eyes  upon  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch;  but  his 
feeling  toward  him  grew  in  intensity  the  minute  he  was 
pointed  out  to  him  across  a  long  table  on  the  occasion 
of  a  breakfast  at  the  general's  headquarters. 

"  I  do  not  want  to  be  within  a  hundred  paces  of  him," 
he  had  remarked  to  his  neighbor,  who  had  informed  him 
of  Rovitch's  presence  at  the  other  end  of  the  table.  "  My 
hand  is  itching  to  get  hold  of  the  beast!  "  And  he  had 
exchanged  seats  with  another  officer,  so  as  to  enable 
him  to  turn  his  back  toward'  Rovitch  and  not  look  at 
that  "beast." 

After  this  breakfast,  however,  Golovin  had  never 
knowingly  avoided  any  opportunity  of  meeting  his 
enemy.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  sought  him;  and 
often,  on  perceiving  Rovitch  walking  in  the  distance, 
he  had  gone  out  of  his  way  and  hastened  his  steps  to 
come  face  to  face  with  him,  to  look  straight  into  his 


270  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

eyes  (not  impudently,  however),  thereby  forcing  the 
other  to  turn  aside  to  avoid  an  unfriendly  altercation. 

The  conflict,  however,  was  sure  to  occur  sooner  or 
later  —  it  seemed  inevitable. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

OVERTAKEN. 

A  LARGE  detachment  of  cavalry,  consisting  of  several 
"  sotnias  "  of  Cossacks,  and  extending  over  a  distance  of 
nearly  two  versts,  was  making  its  way  through  a  part 
of  the  Yomud  lands  crossed  and  cut  up  everywhere  by 
irrigating  ditches.  They  did  not  know  the  road  they 
were  following;  the  whole  region  was  new  and  strange 
to  them  —  it  was  only  just  being  explored,  or,  we 
might  say,  discovered.  Some  were  moving  ahead  quite 
rapidly,  others  branched  off  to  the  right  and  left  as  if 
seeking  for  a  better  road,  while  others  again  halted 
at  times  as  if  in  doubt,  and  then  hurried  on  at 
increased  speed  when  their  doubts  had  been  solved; 
hurrying  as  if  it  were  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
make  up  for  the  time  lost  in  their  brief  halt. 

The  detachment  had  guides,  but  these  guides, 
whether  intentionally  or  not,  proved  very  poor  leaders 
of  a  column;  it  would  have  been  much  better  for  the 
expedition  if  they  had  been  without  them.  The  guides 
only  caused  the  loss  of  time  by  consultations,  during 
which  they  made  the  most  absurd  and  contradictory 
statements,  though  they  were  mostly  natives  belonging 
to  the  region  through  which  the  detachment  was  mov- 
ing at  this  time. 


OVERTAKEN.  271 

This  whole  strong  detachment,  though  moving  rap- 
idly enough  to  tire  both  horses  and  men,  was  evidently 
groping  and  feeling  its  way.  This  was  no  ordinary 
march  from  one  well-known  point  to  another,  else  there 
would  have  been  no  such  frequent  breaking  into  a  trot, 
or  even  a  gallop.  Besides,  the  members  of  the  expedi- 
tion were  acting  in  an  unusual,  independent  manner 
which  would  not  have  been  permitted  on  ordinary 
marches,  when  all  proceed  in  a  dreamy,  half-dozing 
manner,  moving  in  accordance  with  established  rules 
and  regulations,  when  the  roads  are  all  alike  and  the  end 
in  view  always  the  same  —  to  reach  the  camp  selected 
for  the  night  Here,  on  the  contrary,  all  the  horsemen 
were  carefully  and  cautiously  looking  to  either  side, 
but  chiefly  ahead,  as  if  searching  for  something  along 
the  wavy  horizon,  broken  here  and  there  by  groups  of 
trees  and  patches  of  brush  ;  their  whole  attention  was 
fixed  in  that  direction. 

It  was  a  pursuit,  but  a  pursuit  under  very  unfavor- 
able circumstances,  without  any  knowledge  of  the 
locality,  of  the  roads,  without  proper  guides,  and  beset 
with  obstacles  causing  loss  of  time. 

The  pursued,  on  the  other  hand,  were  in  a  very 
different  position.  They  knew  the  country  well  —  they 
were  settled  there.  They  could  move  on  without  stop- 
ping for  a  certain  well-known  distance,  and  they  could 
obstruct  the  road  and  make  it  impassable  for  the  pur- 
suer; but,  for  all  that,  the  pursued  were  informed  from 
time  to  time  that  the  danger  was  approaching,  and 
that  their  foes  had  already  gained  more  than  a  day's 
march  upon  them  —  and  a  day's  march  means  a  great 
deal  on  such  occasions. 

But,  in  the  words  of  one  of  the  Turkoman  Mullahs 
who  subsequently  described  this  flight,  "  Allah  was 


272  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

incensed  against  his  true  believers;  he  closed  their  eyes 
and  ears  and  enveloped  their  minds  in  fog.  He  sowed 
among  them  confusion  and  fear,  while  he  cleared  the 
eyes  of  the  unbelieving  enemy,  gave  them  strength  of 
legs,  speed,  and  power  —  and  everything  was  lost  by 
the  will  of  Allah,  as  an  example  to  all,  and  to  proclaim 
his  will  in  the  future."  The  will  of  Allah  is  certainly 
enough  to  explain  a  total  reversal  of  existing  affairs  by 
means  such  as  could  not  be  available  in  the  natural 
course  of  events. 

This  was  a  force  which  had  been  detached  from  the 
main  body  of  the  army  that  was  marching  for  the  pur- 
pose of  punishing  the  unruly  Turkomans.  The  object 
of  the  movement  was  to  penetrate  into  the  heart  of 
their  pastoral  and  agricultural  lands,  to  flank  them 
and  surround  them,  cutting  them  off  from  farther 
flight. 

At  the  first  glance  this  detachment  appeared  to  have 
but  little  in  common  with  regular  troops  —  there  was 
such  a  jumble  of  types  and  costumes;  and  the  very 
character  of  their  movements  reminded  one  of  some- 
thing Asiatic  —  half-savage.  The  Cossacks  went  along 
at  a  gallop,  now  going  in  single  file,  one  after  the  other, 
over  narrow,  barely  perceptible  paths,  and  then  again 
gathering  in  groups  when  those  in  advance  halted  to 
look  about  or  to  remove  some  obstacle  in  the  road. 
Cannons  would  have  been  out  of  place  in  such  a  move- 
ment, and  therefore  none  were  to  be  seen.  In  their 
stead  each  company  had  a  group  of  men  carrying  over 
their  shoulders,  in  place  of  their  carbines,  long  poles 
with  round  knobs  at  the  end  —  this  was  the  rocket 
detachment,  with  their  noisy  and  thereby  effective 
weapons,  which  are  in  reality  as  harmless  as  they  are 
expensive. 


OVERTAKEN.  273 

Here  and  there  the  colored  guidons  of  the  various 
"  sotnias  "  and  the  personal  flags  of  commanders  flut- 
tered in  the  breeze.  Nearly  every  company  was  march- 
ing separately,  exploring  and  selecting  its  own  road. 
At  a  certain  point  a  group  of  Orenburg  Cossacks  had 
assembled,  in  their  loose  gray  homespun  blouses  and  yel- 
low leather  trousers;  they  dismounted  to  remove  with 
their  hands  a  barricade  constructed  of  broken  carts  and 
of  trunks  of  trees  felled  across  the  road.  In  another 
place  some  Siberian  Cossacks,  in  their  ungainly  shaggy 
caps  with  red  cloth  tops,  were  describing  a  long  circuit 
in  order  to  avoid  a  rice-patch  which  had  been  purposely 
flooded  to  convert  it  into  an  impassable  swamp.  There, 
again,  some  Caucasian  Cossacks,  in  helmets,  were  jump- 
ing like  goats  across  an  irrigating  ditch  on  their 
slender-legged  mountain  horses.  Native  mounted  mili- 
tiamen, in  bright-colored  cloaks  and  Turkoman  caps 
and  turbans,  on  untrained  horses  covered  with  cloths, 
were  galloping  to  and  fro,  mingling  with  the  Cossacks, 
shouting  and  talking  in  their  own  language,  enlivening 
the  scene  and  adding  much  to  its  wild,  Asiatic  character. 
One  of  the  "  sotnias  "  which  had  been  detained  for  some 
time  by  an  obstruction  in  the  road,  finally  gave  it  up, 
turned  aside,  and,  happening  upon  a  practicable  path, 
gave  loose  rein  to  their  horses,  to  catch  up,  at  a  full  gal- 
lop, with  the  others  and  to  make  up  for  loss  of  time. 
Dense  clouds  of  dust  were  rising  from  under  their 
horses'  feet,  hiding  the  company  entirely  from  sight; 
only  the  soiled,  torn  square  of  the  guidon  could  be  seen 
fluttering  above.  A  patch  of  liquid  mire  lay  in  their 
course,  the  horses  sinking  to  their  bellies,  and  all  from 
head  to  foot  being  covered  with  mud.  The  tails  and 
manes  of  the  horses  were  clogged  with  it  and  the  clothes 
of  the  riders  bespattered,  the  men  saving  their  guns 


274  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

and  cartridges  only  by  lifting  them  up.  At  last  they 
reached  solid  ground  again,  and  the  burning  sun  imme- 
diately dried  the  mud,  restoring  the  rider  almost  to  his 
previous  condition,  until  they  should  meet  with  another 
bath  or  submersion  in  dust  or  mud,  the  common  inci- 
dents of  a  forced  march  in  pursuit. 

Energy  must  at  last  adjust  itself  to  physical  powers, 
and  these  powers  were  weakening.  Both  horses  and 
riders  began  to  feel  the  effect  of  overexertion.  The 
horses'  sunken  sides  were  heaving;  they  were  snorting 
and  sniffing  with  their  red,  inflamed  nostrils.  They 
had  been  in  motion  for  nearly  ten  hours  —  since  day- 
light, and  now  it  was  nearly  evening.  They  had  cov- 
ered a  great  distance,  but  how  much  there  was  still  to 
be  made  was  not  known.  Possibly  a  day,  or  two  days, 
perhaps  only  an  hour,  might  end  the  chase  —  not  more. 
Who  knew  what  lay  there  before  them?  It  might  be 
only  just  beyond  that  undulating  line  that  they  would 
see  what  they  had  been  pursuing  so  long. 

The  shrill  sound  of  a  bugle  came  from  the  direction 
in  which  could  be  seen  a  large  red  flag  with  diagonal 
white  stripes.  It  was  an  unwelcome,  and  even  unex- 
pected sound,  though  nearly  every  one  had  been  unwill- 
ingly listening  for  it  long  ago.  The  signal  was,  "  Halt! ' 
followed  by,  "  Close  up  on  the  leading  company!  "  It 
was  necessary  to  rest,  to  breathe,  or  the  horses  might 
be  permanently  injured.  The  "closing-up  "  movement 
began;  the  companies  in  rear  were  gradually  approach- 
ing those  in  advance.  A  few  companies  who  had 
drawn  ahead  of  the  leading  command  turned  back 
slowly  and  reluctantly,  and  a  vast  irregular  bivouac  was 
formed,  as  irregular  and  unconventional  in  all  its 
arrangements  as  the  march  had  been.  Fires  were 
lighted,  from  which  rose  huge  columns  of  black  smoke. 


OVERTAKEN.  275 

Tea  was  being  made  and  meat  roasted  upon  the  coals. 
By  good  luck  a  few  exhausted  calves  and  sheep  had 
been  found  on  the  road.  The  horses  stood  still  in  their 
places,  hanging  their  heads  from  weariness  —  a  few 
were  rolling  on  the  ground.  In  the  dirty  ditches  the 
men  bathed  and  washed,  taking  the  same  water  for 
cooking  and  drinking.  In  places  extemporized  shelters 
and  tents  were  even  put  up  as  a  protection  against  the 
burning  rays  of  the  sun.  Wherever  there  was  a  soli- 
tary tree  or  a  clump  of  bushes  giving  shade,  there 
crowds  gathered;  and  noisy  and  animated  conversation 
was  carried  on  by  the  men  —  some  grumbling  and 
scolding,  some  happy  and  full  of  irrepressible  and  irre- 
sistible vigor. 

It  was  not  purposed  to  stop  long;  two  hours  at  the 
most  would  give  the  hardy,  strong  horses  of  the  steppe 
time  to  recuperate  sufficiently  to  enable  them  to  set 
out  again  upon  another  "  heat  "  of  the  forced  march. 

An  exchange  of  news  and  suppositions  was  going  on 
on  all  sides.  Everything  was  listened  to  eagerly,  with 
feverish  anxiety  and  impatience.  The  news  was  so 
abundant  that  one  piece  of  it  overtook  another,  the  last 
exceeding  all  former  in  absurdity. 

"  Now  we  are  close  to  them,"  explained  one  man  with 
some  heat;  "  that  is  plainly  to  be  seen.  But  why,  in  the 
devil's  name,  are  we  stopping?  We  might  just  as  well 
rest  later  on.  Ah,  it's  too  bad!  " 

"  How  do  you  know  they  are  near?  If  you  founder 
your  horse,  everything  has  to  stop ;  that  has  hap- 
pened before." 

"  If  we  had  only  gone  on  for  half  an  hour,  to  those 
trees  —  see!  —  where  the  plantains  are  looming  up." 

"  I  am  sorry  Golovin  is  not  with  us,"  was  the  com- 
plaint in  another  group.  "  He  is  an  expert  in  finding 
18 


276  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

out  things  ahead  of  the  column.  Do  you  believe  me? 
Once  some  one  told  him  he  thought  the  enemy  was 
only  a  little  ahead.  '  Be  easy,'  he  said;  '  in  an  hour 
and  three  quarters  we'll  be  up  with  them.'  And,  true 
as  fate,  in  just  one  hour  and  three  quarters  we  had 
them.  We  saw  that  with  our  own  eyes.  He  is  a  know- 
ing one!  He  follows  them  up,  and  catches  them!  " 

"  He  has  the  devil's  own  scent.  I  know  him  —  some- 
thing like  a  hound.  You  remember  when  we  went  to 
Ukhum,  after  the  attack  on  Djusak? " 

"  Didn't  he  march  with  us?    I  thought  I  saw  him  — " 

"  No;  he  is  laid  up.  He  is  very  weak  and  poorly. 
Ah,  he  was  such  a  tough  fellow  once." 

"  Gentlemen,  some  Cossacks  have  found  a  fallen 
horse  from  a  cart.  They  were  taking  off  its  collar 
when  they  found  the  neck  still  warm  —  it  did  not  have 
time  to  cool.  It  is  evident  they  are  near,"  said  a  Cos- 
sack as  he  was  hurrying  by. 

"Well,  now;  do  you  see?  I  told  you  they  were  quite 
near.  Now  it  is  clear!  " 

"  Some  of  the  advance  have  just  come  back.  They 
found  hot  cinders  —  the  fire  had  been  put  out,  but  the 
ashes  did  not  have  time  to  cool.  They  also  found 
a  kettle,  and  brought  it  back  with  them." 

"  Now  what  are  we  dawdling  here  for?  The  colonel 
ought  to  be  told.  Does  he  know  it  yet? " 

"  They  have  gone  to  report." 

"  See  there!  the  Siberians  are  mounting.  There  goes 
the  bugle! " 

"  To  horse!     Blow,  bugler;  sound  the  advance!  " 

The  latest  news  of  the  horse's  neck  still  warm  and 
the  glowing  cinders  somewhat  shortened  the  time 
intended  for  rest.  The  companies  mounted  again  and 
began  to  string  out. 


OVERTAKEN.  277 

The  country  was  still  very  much  broken  and  difficult 
to  travel  over.  Narrow  paths  meandered  here  and 
there,  sometimes  between  walls  of  mud,  and  then  again 
between  deep  ditches  or  through  thickets  of  brush,  and 
these  paths  seemed  to  cross  each  other  and  change 
direction  every  few  steps,  often  apparently  leading 
back  to  the  rear.  Such  surprises  were  met  with  every 
few  minutes.  To  the  right  and  left,  among  fields 
planted  with  wheat  and  rice,  there  were  traces  of  huts 
only  just  taken  down.  These  round  spots,  well  tramped 
down,  with  a  pile  of  ashes  in  the  center,  were  striking- 
objects  upon  the  surface  of  the  landscape.  They  were 
carefully  examined,  in  the  hope  of  finding  in  them  some 
indications. 

And  now  they  found  fresh  cart-tracks.  The  heavy 
wheels  had  been  dragged  through  the  yielding  soil, 
leaving  deep  furrows.  There  they  had  crossed  a  ditch, 
and  were  stalled;. they  got  out  again  with  difficulty,  as 
shown  by  the  number  of  tracks  of  oxen  and  naked  feet 
about  the  spot.  Fowls  began  to  start  up  from  under 
the  Cossacks'  horses,  but  no  attention  was  paid  to  them; 
that  kind  of  booty  was  too  insignificant  when  com- 
pared with  what  must  be  ahead.  Now  a  cart  comes  in 
sight!  The  horses  had  been  unharnessed  and  taken 
away,  but  the  cart  remained,  with  all  its  load,  standing 
there  alone  in  the  road. 

Men  galloped  up  to  it  from  all  sides;  they  looked  at 
it,  felt  it,  smelled  it.  "What  have  you  found? "  "  The 
devil  knows  what!  I  can  never  wash  off  the  smell. 
There,  boys;  I  see  cattle  grazing  over  there  —  they  are 
driving  them.  Cut  them  off,  quick!  " 

Far  away,  on  one  side  of  the  road,  there  really  could 
be  seen  some  moving  dots  on  the  fields.  Perhaps  they 
were  cattle,  perhaps  something  else.  The  Cossacks 


278  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

asserted  that  they  saw  cows,  and  men  driving  them  off 
somewhere. 

"  No,  brother;  you  lie!  Those  are  ours  —  some  of  the 
Orenburg  fellows." 

Again  they  came  across  a  cart,  and  then  another; 
then  they  saw  three  together,  one  of  them  lying  on  its 
side  with  a  broken  wheel  —  and  there  were  the  people! 

Beside  one  of  the  carts  there  stood  a  large  willow 
basket,  and  from  it  protruded  two  heads  of  young  goats 
and  one  of  a  human  being.  The  latter  belonged  to  a 
boy  not  more  than  a  year  old.  The  black  eyes  looked 
full  of  apprehension  at  the  strange  men  galloping 
around  the  carts  —  the  little  mouth  half-open  and  the 
small  hands  clinging  desperately  to  the  rim  of  the  bas- 
ket, as  if  this  diminutive  son  of  the  steppe  were  afraid 
that  they  would  pull  him  out  of  his  refuge. 

Now  they  must  be  near  if  they  were  in  such  hurry  as 
to  forget  their  little  ones.  There  we*e  some  huts  not 
yet  taken  down ;  they  had  not  time  to  take  them 
away.  One  remained  without  its  felt  covering,  the 
other  had  been  stripped.  The  people  were  still  rushing 
about,  trying  to  take  them  down  —  too  late!  There, 
they  were  running. 

Interpreters  were  now  sent  out  to  tell  the  people, 
"Whoever  remains  at  home  will  be  left  undisturbed; 
only  those  are  punished  who  run  away  or  offer  resist- 
ance! "  But  the  flying  crowd  do  not  understand  —  per- 
haps they  do  not  listen  to  these  reassuring  phrases. 
The  women  gathered  in  crowds,  sat  down  and  covered 
their  faces.  Some  of  the  men  threw  themselves  down, 
pretending  to  have  been  killed;  one  fired  straight  at  a 
Cossack  who  was  pursuing  him,  dropped  him  from  his 
saddle,  and  spurred  on  his  own  faltering  beast,  trying 
to  escape  —  vain  attempt ! 


OVERTAKEN.  279 

Shots  were  now  heard  farther  ahead.  "  The  rocket 
corps  to  the  front!  "  Two  wounded  officers  were  being 
carried  back.  Some  Caucasians  were  retreating  before 
a  stronger  body  of  natives.  "  To  the  rescue,  boys!  " 

There  seemed  to  be  much  promiscuous  fighting,  but 
nothing  definite  could  be  made  out  for  some  time. 
Ahead  of  them,  beyond  those  hills,  was  strung  out  an 
apparently  endless  chain  of  carts  upon  carts.  Cattle 
and  horses  were  being  driven  along,  while  mounted 
men  circled  about  them,  keeping  up  a  desultory  fire. 
A  few  rallied  in  groups,  endeavoring  to  beat  back  the 
onslaught  of  the  Cossacks  ;  the  others  seemed  to  have 
but  a  single  thought — to  fly,  to  save  themselves. 

They  were  surrounded  at  last,  and  were  being  driven 
together.  The  road  to  the  steppe  —  their  only  salvation 
—  was  cut  off  and  closed  to  them.  Flight  was  no  longer 
possible. 

Orders  were  issued  at  once,  "  For  the  least  disorder 
the  culprit  will  be  shot  like  a  dog.  Women  and  chil- 
dren must  not  be  touched  with  a  finger." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  commander  of  the  expedition, 
somewhat  excitedly,  to  his  officers,  "  we  must  bring 
order  into  this  chaos."  And  he  passed  on,  followed  by 
his  staff,  by  his  red  and  white  standard,  and  by  a  motley 
crowd  of  native  militiamen,  staff -buglers,  and  others. 

The  sun  was  about  to  sink  beyond  the  horizon  in  a 
crimson  haze,  and  darkness  was  coming  on.  All  tried 
to  make  use  of  the  last  rays  of  light  to  bring  some  sys- 
tem and  order  into  this  noisy  turmoil.  At  night  that 
would  be  impossible.  The  horses  were  unhitched  from 
the  carts  and  led  aside.  With  the  vehicles  a  compact 
square  was  formed,  the  unhappy  inmates  of  which  sub- 
mitted to  the  will  of  Allah,  but  still  carefully  watched 
their  property.  The  whole  was  surrounded  by  a  chain 


280  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

of  sentries,  the  Cossacks  extending  their  bivouacs  in  a 
circle  around  the  entire  train. 

The  horses  were  not  unsaddled  all  night;  nobody 
slept;  all  were  on  the  alert  and  ready  for  battle.  For 
who  knew  but  that  fresh  masses  of  the  enemy  might 
at  any  moment  make  their  appearance  from  beyond 
those  sand-hills  in  front,  coming  to  the  rescue  of  their 
wives,  children,  and  property? 

On  the  horizon,  to  the  right  and  left,  there  blazed 
up  suspicious-looking  red  reflections  as  if  from  con- 
flagrations. Flames  could  be  seen  shooting  up,  and 
black  clouds  of  smoke  arose  into  the  darkening  sky. 
Was  the  steppe  on  fire?  No;  those  were  the  fields  and 
the  ricks  of  the  Turkomans,  which  they  had  ignited,  in 
their  blind  fear  and  rage,  destroying  in  a  few  hours  the 
winter's  store,  upon  which  depended  the  lives  of  these 
now  sorely  punished  nomads. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

FOUND. 

SERGEI  NIKOLAIEVITCH  ROVITCH  was  with  this  detach- 
ment. One  may  easily  imagine  the  feverish  condition  in 
which  he  had  passed  this  day.  He  was  tortured  by  im- 
patience and  doubt.  Would  they  catch  up  with  them,  or 
not?  If  they  came  up  with  them,  would  he  find  there 
what  he  was  searching  for,  or  not?  Would  he  come  upon 
some  trace  of  Natalia  Martinovna,  or  would  he  still  be 
left  in  this  unbearable  state  of  uncertainty? 

He  was  now  galloping  about  the  train  looking  into 


FOUND.  281 

the  vehicles,  listening,  trying  to  question  the  prisoners, 
but  all  in  vain.  They  would  not  answer —  he  could  not 
get  a  word  in  reply  to  all  his  inquiries.  How  could 
they  answer,  these  unfortunate  women  and  children 
whom  fear  had  robbed  of  their  senses?  The  train  was 
very  large — several  thousand  carts;  all  the  space  in 
sight  was  filled  with  them.  To  count  them  and  inspect 
them  a  whole  day,  at  least,  was  needed,  and  here  was 
the  cursed  night,  with  its  darkness,  precluding  all  possi- 
bility of  farther  research.  There  was  nothing  left  but 
to  submit  to  necessity  and  wait. 

What  a  dreary  wait!  But  if  she  was  not  here  —  if 
she  was  with  some  other  train  which  succeeded  in 
escaping  —  what  then?  This  idea  came  into  his  head 
unbidden,  and  greatly  increased  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch's 
sufferings. 

He  was  by  no  means  the  only  one  in  a  similar  con- 
dition. All  the  officers  of  the  commands  hailing  from 
Tashkent  experienced  almost  the  same  feelings,  though 
perhaps  not  in  the  same  degree.  The  officers  of  the 
Caucasian  expedition,  who  had  never  known  Natalia 
Martinovna,  but  had  heard  of  her,  also  were  ready  to 
take  an  active  part  in  the  search,  but  they  went  at  it 
more  calmly.  In  the  heads  of  the  former  still  another 
idea  had  taken  root :  "If  she  should  be  no  longer  among 
the  living?  "  But  this  unwelcome  thought  was  speedily 
put  away  by  every  one,  without  permitting  a  word  or 
even  a  hint  of  it  to  escape  through  his  lips.  "That 
would  be  altogether  unjust!  "  they  considered.  Unjust 
on  whose  part?  Nobody  cared  to  go  into  such  details. 
It  only  seemed  to  every  one  that  this  affair  could  not, 
must  not,  end  in  so  sad  a  manner. 

The  square  of  carts  was  surrounded  by  a  chain  of 
sentries,  who  were  strictly  forbidden  to  admit  any  one 


282  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

to  the  interior,  with  the  exception  of  officers.  Sergei 
Nikolaievitch  was  wandering  about  on  foot,  looking 
into  the  nearest  carts,  at  the  dark  figures  sitting  mo- 
tionless in  them  and  under  them  —  he  was  waiting  for 
the  dawn. 

"If  she  were  here,"  said  some  one  not  far  from  Ro- 
vitch,  "  she  would  have  come  out  herself.  She  has  not 
weaned  herself  completely  from  the  Russians — she 
would  not  hide  herself  from  us;  she  would  have  come 
out  long  ago." 

"  But,"  replied  another  voice,  "  if  she  should  be  lying 
ill  and  could  not  stir?  No,  brother;  we  shall  have  to 
search." 

Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  looked  around  and  observed  two 
other  officers,  who  had  evidently  come  for  the  same 
purpose  he  had  in  mind.  He  felt  an  absurd,  insane 
jealousy  of  these  two  dark  shadows;  he  would  have 
been  willing  to  annihilate  them  that  very  moment.  "  I 
alone,"  he  thought,  "have  the  right  to  seek  her,  to  wait 
for  her.  What  did  they  come  here  for?  By  what 
right?"  He  was  fully  convinced  of  the  logic  and  just- 
ness of  his  own  ideas  on  this  subject. 

"It  is  a  pity  there  is  no  lantern,"  came  from  some 
other  voice,  evidently  a  soldier's.  "  Now  would  be  the 
time  to  look  from  cart  to  cart  —  we  might  ask  permis- 
sion! " 

"  Don't  think  of  it.  You  would  probably  have  a  knife 
thrust  into  you  that  would  finish  you.  Those  Turko- 
man women  are  tough  ones!  " 

Two  others  walked  up,  stood  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  walked  on  along  the  line  of  sentries.  "  They 
also,"  groaned  Rovitch,  biting  at  the  fingers  of  his 
gloves  in  his  rage. 

"Tokhta!  "  (halt)  cried  the  nearest  sentry,  bringing 


FOUND.  283 

his  carbine  to  a  "  ready."  Rovitch  trembled,  and  stared 
into  the  darkness  —  he  could  see  nothing. 

"  What  did  you  say? "  he  asked  the  sentry. 

"  Some  one  came  up  toward  the  line  from  over  there, 
but  she  went  away  again.  I  do  not  see  her  now." 

"Where,  where?" 

"  Who  is  commander  of  this  detachment?"  came  in  a 
feeble  voice  not  far  from  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch.  It  was 
the  voice  of  a  woman.  She  spoke  Russian.  Several 
dark  figures  rushed  out  to  meet  her.  Rovitch's  head 
was  turning  around,  sparks  were  whirling  before  his 
eyes,  his  legs  trembled  under  him,  and  he  fell  to  the 
ground  unconscious. 

The  woman,  with  a  child  in  her  arms,  was  surrounded 
in  a  second.  A  dozen  hands  were  extended;  they  seized 
her,  these  hands,  and  lifted  her  up,  and  with  a  shout 
of  triumph  and  a  hoarse  "hurrah!  "  they  carried  her  to 
the  nearest  bivouac. 

"  Some  fire  —  light  a  fire!  we  must  have  some  light!  " 
was  the  cry  all  around.  "  Hurrah!  "  The  shout  was  car- 
ried all  over  the  camp  in  endless  repetition;  hundreds 
heard  it  and  took  it  up  without  knowing  what  it  all 
was  about,  but  all  came  running  to  the  place  where  the 
shout  originated. 

Natalia  Martinovna  laughed  and  wept,  her  tears 
being  again  followed  by  smiles.  She  talked  much, 
and  rapidly,  and  the  others  talked  to  her  all  at 
once.  Nobody  could  hear,  and  nobody  wanted  to  hear 
—  all  were  foolishly  merry  and  happy.  If  anybody  had 
been  asked  the  following  morning  how  it  happened, 
what  was  said  or  done,  nobody  would  have  been  in  a 
condition  to  give  a  correct  and  truthful  answer  to  these 
questions. 

Sergei  Nikolaievitch,  regaining  consciousness,  quick- 


284  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF 

ly  sprang  to  his  feet  and  hurried  away  in  the  direc- 
tion from  which  the  shouts  of  triumph  were  coming. 
The  bright  light  of  a  camp-fire  illuminated  Natalia 
Martinovna's  figure  with  an  almost  blinding  glare.  She 
was  still  in  the  old  torn  Turkoman  garment,  partly 
exposing  her  body;  she  was  seated  upon  a  carpet,  hold- 
ing a  large  cup  of  tea  in  her  trembling  hands.  Little 
Petka  was  passing  from  arm  to  arm,  his  musical,  silvery 
laughter  ringing  through  the  air.  The  officers  were 
crowding  around.  Some  Cossacks  were  busy  putting 
up  a  fantastic  tent  of  carpets,  blankets,  and  horse-cloths 
—  whatever  came  to  their  hands. 

Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  looked  upon  all  this  and  stood 
apart.  He  felt  that  he  could  not  join  them.  For  such  a 
step  he  lacked  resolution. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

A    VERY    DISAGREEABLE    AND    DIFFICULT    SITUATION. 

YES;  there  certainly  could  not  exist  a  more  provok- 
ing situation  than  that  in  which  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch 
found  himself  ever  since  that  night  when  the  first  part 
of  his  hopes,  his  most  ardent  desires  —  the  finding  of 
Natalia  —  had  been  fulfilled.  Now  that  she  was  found, 
there  remained  only  the  second  part  to  be  realized. 
How  easy  appeared  this  second  part  formerly,  and  how 
difficult,  almost  impossible,  it  seemed  now! 

To  go  to  her,  to  confess  his  fault,  and  to  pray  for  her 
forgiveness,  and  finally  to  receive  it  —  Sergei  Nikolai'e- 
vitch never  had  a  doubt  on  that  point;  then  to  pro- 


A  VERY  DISAGREEABLE  AND  DIFFICULT  SITUATION.       285 

pose  to  her,  humbling  himself  by  getting  down  upon 
his  knees;  to  ask  for  her  hand,  and  to  receive  it  —  of 
that  there  could  also  be  no  doubt;  to  gain  possession  of 
her  as  his  wife,  and  to  become  the  lawful  father  of 
his  child;  and  at  the  end  of  all  that  — 

This  phrase  "at  the  end  of  all  that"  was  especially 
attractive  to  Rovitch.  In  spite  of  the  serious  disturb- 
ance of  his  moral  nature,  and  of  his  real  heartache, 
which  had  even  affected  his  health,  this  "  at  the  end  of 
all  that "  suggested  an  idea  so  seductive,  so  pleasing, 
that  it  called  an  involuntary  smile  to  his  lips,  and  some- 
times even  an  audible  laugh,  between  his  teeth — a 
laugh  in  which  there  was  a  note  of  mocking  joy  and  of 
self-satisfaction.  What  a  trick  he  would  play  them,  and 
him  especially.  When  they  had  been  giving  up  hope 
and  pining  away,  he  simply  came,  took  and  carried 
away,  perhaps  telling  them,  to  console  them  for  their 
loss,  "  Pardon,  messieurs;  que  faire!  You  see,  if  it  had 
not  been  the  wish  of  Natalia  Martinovna  herself,  I 
might  perhaps  —  but  you  see  for  yourselves,  gentle- 
men, and  therefore  I  trust  that  our  friendly  relations 
will  not  be  interrupted;  and  if  it  should  ever  happen 
that  fate  brings  you  to  St.  Petersburg,  I  shall  be  only 
too  happy  —  and  my  wife  also — to  entertain  you." 
And  much  more  of  this  character  would  Sergei  Niko- 
lai'evitch  have  told  them;  only  it  was  necessary  in  the 
first  place  that  the  thing  should  happen,  but  to  bring  it 
about  was  so  simple  a  matter,  it  was  only  necessary  to 
make  a  beginning. 

The  matter  now  stood  like  this:  Natalia  had  already 
passed  a  whole  night  and  a  morning  in  the  camp;  after 
that  she  had,  of  course,  accompanied  the  detachment 
on  its  next  march,  which  occupied  another  day  and 
night  and  half  of  the  following  day,  or  altogether 


286  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

nearly  three  days.  During  this  time  not  only  all  the 
officers  of  the  detachment,  but  also  nearly  all  the  com- 
mon soldiers,  had  succeeded  in  talking  to  her,  if  not 
with  her  —  all  whom  she  had  previously  known,  and 
even  many  who  had  not  known  her;  while  he,  as  if  it 
had  been  managed  on  purpose,  had  never  yet  succeeded 
in  saying  half  a  word  to  her,  much  less  in  summoning 
the  necessary  resolution  .to  get  near  enough  to  her  for 
a  serious  conversation.  What  was  still  worse,  he  had 
not  even  greeted  her  yet,  and  must  therefore  appear  as 
the  only  man  who  felt  no  interest  in  her  and  kept  aloof. 
He  always  felt  like  turning  away  whenever  it  appeared 
to  him  as  if  she  were  looking  in  his  direction.  Did  she 
know,  he  wondered,  that  he,  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch,  was 
here?  Evidently  she  must  know  it.  It  was  impossible 
that  she  should  not  have  been  informed  of  his  presence. 
But  there  were  those  confounded  fellows.  They  would 
always  hang  about  her  like  a  constant  guard  of  honor. 
How  could  one  talk  with  her  under  such  unfavorable 
conditions?  It  was  out  of  the  question  to  think  of  the 
stupidity  of  a  public  declaration.  There  was  certainly 
much  between  them  which  could  only  be  discussed  face 
to  face.  It  was  to  be  hoped  that  she  would  think  of 
that;  that  she  would  recognize  the  anomaly  and  incon- 
venience of  his  position,  and  understand  it  and  feel  for 
him.  He  understood  how  burdensome  and  annoying 
must  be  to  her  these  uninvited  and  undesired  pages  in 
her  train  —  pages  with  unshaven  chins,  in  red  leather 
trousers  and  dirty  shirts!  Why  would  they  not  keep 
away,  these  ill-conditioned  idiots! 

Thus  pondered  Sergei  Nikola'ievitch,  and  in  his  anger 
smoked  cigar  after  cigar,  and  viciously  drove  his  spurs 
into  the  sides  of  his  horse,  which  certainly  was  inno- 
cent of  any  fault  in  the  matter. 


A  VERY  DISAGREEABLE   AND  DIFFICULT  SITUATION.       287 

"  Well,  the  devil  is  in  it!  But  there  must  be  an  end 
to  it.  I  must  come  to  a  decision,  and  that  at  once! 
What  is  the  use  of  letting  the  matter  drag  along  or  of 
beating  about  the  bush?  I  might,  for  instance,  simply 
tell  them,  "  Excuse  me,  gentlemen;  it  is  necessary  that 
we  should  talk  without  witnesses."  Then  they  would 
go  away.  I'll  do  it!  " 

But  nevertheless  the  sun  had  now  set  three  times, 
and  had  risen  as  often,  and  still  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch 
had  failed  to  act  up  to  his  resolve,  or  to  summon  at  the 
proper  moment  his  courage  and  energy,  which  hitherto 
had  never  failed  him. 

In  the  meantime  Natalia  Martinovna,  surrounded  by 
her  old  and  new  friends,  was  traveling  along  with  every 
comfort  which  could  be  procured  for  her  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. They  selected  for  her  use  the  best  cart  — 
and  there  were  many  to  choose  from.  The  cart  was 
lined  with  a  thick  layer  of  carpet,  and  they  erected  over 
it  a  high  shady  cover.  The  kind  Cossacks  even 
greased  the  axles  of  her  vehicle  with  Koordistan  butter 
in  order  that  the  squeak  of  the  wheels  might  not  annoy 
the  passengers.  Two  strong  Cossack  horses  were  har- 
nessed to  the  cart,  enabling  her  to  travel  rapidly,  with- 
out delaying  the  movement  of  a  detachment  in  light 
marching  order.  Happy  and  contented,  Natalia  sat 
there  with  her  son,  the  constant  object  of  the  greatest 
care,  the  most  delicate  attentions,  such  as  one  would 
never  expect  to  originate  with  the  uncouth,  dusty 
figures  that  surrounded  her  vehicle.  The  pock-marked, 
homely  "  sotnik "  Podprugin  invented  some  way  of 
tying  up  the  sides  of  her  cart-cover  by  which,  as  he 
expressed  it,  "  the  sun  would  not  burn,  while  the  wind 
would  be  free  —  blowing  through  just  a  little,  you 


288  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

know!"  The"esaul"  Masloboinikof,  who  for  himself 
had  never  refused  the  slimy,  disgusting  water  from  the 
desert-wells,  designed  for  the  "  little  mother  "  a  sort  of 
filter,  constructed  from  a  large  gourd,  in  which  the 
muddy  water  from  the  irrigating  ditches  was  filtered 
during  the  march,  and  by  camping-time  was  clear  and 
pellucid  enough  for  the  most  fastidious  tea-drinker. 
The  bald  sotnik  Mashkin,  Kuzma  Fedossovitch,  and  the 
junior  ensign  Kolobkof  took  a  ride  of  about  five  versts 
away  from  the  road,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives — for  at  a 
distance  from  the  column  the  people  were  hostile  —  and 
returned  with  some  fresh  apricots,  almost  ripe,  and  a 
few  bunches  of  grapes,  entirely  green  and  unfit  for 
use. 

"You  can't  eat  them  that  way,"  kindly  explained 
Mashkin,  "  but  if  you  were  to  put  them  in  your  tea 
instead  of  lemons  —  if  you  please,  I  will  mash  you  some 
in  a  cup." 

Ensign  Kolobkof  brought  from  the  same  raid  a  whole 
basket  of  roses,  packing  them  very  tightly,  as  they  had 
to  get  back  the  best  they  could,  at  full  speed.  Well, 
the  roses  were  "  just  a  little  "  squeezed,  and  compressed 
into  an  almost  solid  mass. 

"  Ah!  I  am  so  sorry  they  are  crushed  a  little,"  he 
complained;  "  they  do  not  look  right,  somehow,  but 
their  perfume  is  excellent — it  seems  better  now  than 
when  we  gathered  them." 

"  They  smell  terribly  of  tar,"  said  Natalia,  laughing 
heartily. 

"  That  is  nothing  —  that  is  from  the  basket.  Those 
good-for-nothings!  I  told  them  to  give  me  a  clean 
basket.  Never  mind;  that  will  soon  pass  away  —  the 
wind  will  freshen  them.  See,  there  are  some  buds  — 
please  look  at  them.  Now,  if  you  would  put  them  in 


A  VERY  DISAGREEABLE  AND  DIFFICULT  SITUATION.       289 

water,  they  would  open  over  night;  they  would,  by 
God!  " 

Little  Petka  honored  the  cart  with  his  presence  only 
to  sleep  with  his  mother;  during  the  whole  inarch  he 
passed  from  hand  to  hand,  from  one  saddle  to  another. 
He  was  in  his  glory  when  his  little  hands  got  hold  of 
the  thick,  clumsy  reins,  which  he  seized  with  a  very 
serious  expression,  not  very  far  from  reverence.  At 
times,  however,  the  laughing,  merry  eyes  of  the  boy 
assumed  a  wistful,  not  at  all  childlike  expression.  He 
would  carefully  examine  the  features  of  the  Cossacks 
around  him,  and  then  look  down  and  think  —  the  little 
fellow  was  searching  for  some  other  face  that  was  not 
present;  a  face  that  had  somehow  survived  in  his 
memory.  When,  however,  at  such  times  one  of  his 
companions  would  get  up  some  new  game  or  call  his 
attention  to  something  in  view,  the  boy  would  brighten 
up  at  once,  laugh  heartily,  and,  passing  again  from  saddle 
to  saddle,  would  forget  for  a  time  his  childish  memories. 

Natalia  Martinovna,  also,  in  the  first  moments  after 
her  appearance  in  the  Russian  camp,  had  cast  a  search- 
ing, inquisitive  glance  around.  The  glance  was  under- 
stood, and  they  answered  it,  hiding  from  her  as  much 
as  possible  the  serious  nature  of  Golovin's  illness,  and 
telling  her  that  he  was  with  another  expedition.  In  a 
short  time,  however,  she  learned  all  that  had  happened; 
that  was  easily  done,  as  the  Cossack  officers  proved 
themselves  very  poor  diplomats  in  such  an  emergency. 
They  also  talked  to  her  openly  of  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch, 
with  all  the  freedom  from  restraint  that  characterizes 
the  etiquette  of  the  steppes.  They  did  not  know 
whether  this  news  would  be  welcome  to  her  or  not. 
They  even  pointed  him  out  to  her,  and  Natalia  had 
several  glimpses  of  the  dejected  figure  of  the  once 


290  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

dashing  officer,  who   always   kept  himself  at   a  very 
respectful  distance. 

In  spite  of  the  pleasant  circumstances  of  her  journey, 
Natalia  Martinovna  began  to  grow  more  and  more 
thoughtful.  She  was  troubled  about  something,  and 
this  mood  of  hers  did  not  long  remain  unnoticed.  The 
simple  Cossacks  seemed  to  understand  what  was  dis- 
turbing her,  but  they  knew  of  no  way  of  helping  her  but 
to  send  ahead  to  the  camp  a  native  messenger  with  a 
letter  for  Golovin,  of  which  the  subjoined  is  an  exact 
copy: 

"  OUR  BELOVED  CHUM:  We  found  the  lady,  and  we  are 
bringing  her.  It  is  all  right;  she  is  well,  and  her  son 
also,  thanks  be  to  God.  That  you  are  sick  grieves  her, 
and  therefore,  brother,  if  you  are  still  breathing,  and 
your  strength  has  not  left  you  altogether,  try  to  pick  up 
quickly.  Get  on  your  horse  and  come  out  to  meet  us. 
But  if  she  should  find  you  still  in  bed  —  what  God  may 
prevent!  —  it  will  grieve  her  more;  she  is  now  fretting, 
though  we,  all  of  us,  are  trying  to  divert  her,  and  some- 
times succeed  in  our  attempts.  That  '  Petersky '  (St. 
Petersburgian)  is  going  along  with  us,  and  is  never  far 
off;  he  looks  sideways  at  us.  Natalia  Martinovna  has 
seen  him;  we  pointed  him  out  to  her,  but  it  was  noth- 
ing! To  judge  from  her  expressions  on  that  subject  we 
may  suppose  that  she  would  '  spit  at  him  '  if  the  black- 
leg were  to  say  a  word.  Little  Petka,  thank  God,  is 
well,  and  he  is  asking  for  you.  He  is  a  boy  of  the  best 
kind  —  he'll  make  a  smart  Cossack.  We  write  this 
unknown  to  Natalia  Martinovna;  that  is  why  she  sends 
you  no  message.  We  inform  you  of  this  to  ease  your 
mind. 

"SOTNIK  IVAN  PODPRUGIN. 

"ESAUL  PAVEL  MASLOBOINIKOF." 


A  VERY  DISAGREEABLE  AND  DIFFICULT  SITUATION.       291 

The  native  who  was  intrusted  with  this  missive  care- 
fully concealed  it  in  his  tobacco-pouch,  which  in  turn  he 
thrust  into  his  bosom ;  then  he  mounted  his  horse  and 
galloped  ahead  over  the  well-known  road.  He  received 
tenkokans  (one  dollar)  on  his  departure,  and  was  prom- 
ised another  ten  if  he  reached  the  Russian  camp  the 
same  day.  Twenty  kokans  was  quite  a  respectable  sum 
—  enough  to  induce  the  native  to  push  his  tall  racer  and 
not  to  spare  the  whip. 

"  I  must  come  to  some  decision!  "  thought  Sergei 
Nikolaievitch,  and  at  last  he  actually  decided  what  to 
do.  Just  then  a  very  favorable  opportunity  presented 
itself;  the  expedition  halted  for  a  rest.  The  locality 
was  much  obstructed  and  cut  up  with  walls  and  ditches. 
It  was  impossible  for  the  whole  command  to  close  up 
into  a  solid  body,  and  the  companies  were  scattered 
along  the  road  at  some  distance  from  each  other. 
Natalia  Martinovna's  cart  had  been  drawn  into  a  shady 
little  garden  a  little  removed  from  the  road.  While  the 
Cossacks  were  attending  to  their  horses  or  building 
fires  and  cooking,  the  officers,  each  with  his  company, 
were  giving  the  necessary  orders,  and  thus  Natalia 
Martinovna  was  left  alone  with  Petka.  She  had  left 
the  cart,  where  two  Cossacks  were  busying  themselves 
about  something,  and  seated  herself  upon  a  piece  of 
carpet,  on  the  bank  of  a  small  pond,  under  the  shade 
of  a  tree.  Petka  was  still  sitting  in  the  cart,  watching 
the  Cossacks  at  their  work.  Sergei  Nikolaievitch  saw 
all  this,  and  resolved  to  dally  no  longer.  How  could 
he  postpone  his  attempt  any  longer  when  the  next 
day,  by  noon,  they  would  be  at  home  and  it  would  be 
too  late?  He  was  waiting  there,  and  the  devil  only 
knew  how  they  stood  toward  each  other.  Rovitch 

19 


292  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

rode  along  swiftly  between  the  picket-ropes,  jumped 
across  ditches,  and  coming  up  to  the  cart,  alighted  from 
his  horse,  throwing  the  bridle  to  one  of  the  Cossacks. 
Petka  looked  at  him  doubtfully,  opening  wide  his  great 
blue  eyes.  "  Ah,  this  is  excellent !  "  thought  Sergei  Niko- 
lai'evitch,  and  at  once  experienced  an  astonishing  rush 
of  paternal  love  and  kindness.  "With  the  child,  my 
son,  in  my  arms,  I  will  go  to  her,  and  then  — " 

"Don't  want  to!"  cried  the  boy,  holding  on  convul- 
sively to  the  carpet.  "  Don't  want  to  !  Mama  !  " 

"  My  darling  !  my  own  child,"  cajoled  Sergei  Niko- 
laievitch,  trying  to  kiss  the  struggling  youngster,  and  to 
hold  his  hands;  but  all  at  once  there  appeared  before 
him,  as  if  sprung  from  the  earth,  the  pock-marked  face 
of  Podprugin,  looking  at  him  over  a  wall  with  a  glance 
such  as  people  bestow  upon  unwelcome  visitors.  It 
even  seemed  to  Rovitch  as  if  he  smiled  —  yes;  it  was 
an  evil,  diabolical  smile,  from  ear  to  ear,  with  teeth 
grinning  and  eyes  glistening. 

"D  —  n  him!  "  muttered  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch,  almost 
audibly. 

"Why  did  you  touch  him  ?"  suddenly  asked  a  famil- 
iar, musical  voice  behind  him. 

Rovitch's  hands  fell  to  his  side.  Petka  toddled  away 
triumphantly  and  climbed  upon  Podprugin's  shoulder. 
Two  officers  came  up  (and  where  the  deuce  did  they 
come  from  ?),  and  two  others  dismounted  from  their 
dust-covered  horses  and  began  to  brush  themselves. 

"Look!  what  a  carp  I've  pulled  out  of  that  pond," 
Masloboinikof  shouted  from  somewhere.  "Get  ready 
to  fry  it  at  once.  Didn't  I  hook  him  nicely  ?  Eh,  Vas- 
sutka,  bring  the  lard,  some  salt,  and  a  frying-pan  — 
quick! " 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done.    Sergei  Nikolai'evitch 


A  VERY  DISAGREEABLE  AND  DIFFICULT  SITUATION.      293 

had  failed  again.  At  first  he  imagined  that  when  Mas- 
loboinikof  spoke  of  the  carp  he  hinted  at  him. 

"Natalia  Martinovna,"  began  Rovitch,  "you  will 
pardon  me  for  not  having  thus  far — " 

"Never  mind!  "  interrupted  Natalia.  "  Tea  will  be 
ready  immediately;  we  shall  breakfast  here.  Will  you 
join  us  ? " 

"Well,  really— " 

"Sit  down!  why  don't  you?"  shouted  Masloboinikof. 
"Never  mind,  Brother  Vassutka;  try  to  find  another 
cup  somewhere." 

In  a  moment  all  was  bustle.  They  dragged  forth  a 
large  carpet  and  spread  it  out,  and  upon  this  they 
placed  a  horse-blanket  for  a  table-cloth.  Dishes  were 
collected  from  all  sorts  of  receptacles.  Natalia  Martin- 
ovna herself  took  an  active  part  in  the  arrangements. 
It  was  positively  impracticable  to  talk  to  her,  and  there 
remained  to  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  but  two  modes  of 
procedure  —  either  to  withdraw  quickly  and  unnoticed 
in  this  bustle,  during  which  no  attention  was  being  paid 
to  him,  or  to  stay  and  take  breakfast  with  the  whole 
company,  and  during  the  general  conversation  to  con- 
vey a  hint  to  Natalia  as  to  the  necessity  of  a  private 
audience.  Very  likely  she  could  bring  about  such  an 
interview  much  more  skillfully  than  he  could,  and 
assist  him  in  his  efforts.  Having  considered  the  ad- 
vantages of  these  propositions,  Rovitch  waited  for  the 
turmoil  to  subside  to  hear  Natalia  Martinovna's 
definite  invitation,  which,  however,  was  not  addressed 
to  him,  but  to  all  present. 

"  Gentlemen,  we  ask  a  blessing!  "  she  said,  loudly  and 
joyously,  seating  herself  near  the  teapot,  and  around 
her  crowded  at  once  the  others,  forming  a  semicircle, 
the  most  distant  point  of  which  only  was  left  for  the 


294  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

hesitating  Rovitch.  He  sat  down,  though  he  would 
have  preferred  a  more  graceful  pose,  as  it  happened 
that  his  feet  were  in  a  higher  place  than  the  other  parts 
of  his  body.  The  carpet  had  been  spread  over  some 
hummocks,  and  his  tight  trousers  inconvenienced  him 
considerably.  At  last  he  got  himself  into  a  better  posi- 
tion, and  cast  upon  the  hostess  of  the  improvised  feast 
a  look  full  of  feeling  and  secret  pleading,  then  sighed 
and  lowered  his  eyes,  playing  absent-mindedly  with 
the  tassel  of  his  sword-knot. 

"  Do  you  prefer  head  or  tail?"  asked  Podprugin,  who 
was  carving  the  carp  with  his  knife  and  counting  the 
number  of  guests  present.  They  were  among  them- 
selves, but  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  was  a  comparative 
stranger,  a  guest,  and  therefore  the  Cossack  thought 
proper  to  ascertain  his  preference. 

Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  was  somewhat  startled;  the 
prosaic  question  had  recalled  him  from  the  realm  of 
poetic  meditation,  but  he  managed  to  stutter,  "  Thank 
you;  I  have  already  breakfasted." 

"When  did  you  do  it  —  on  the  road?"  inquired  the 
attentive  Cossack.  "  I'm  sure  I  did  not  see  anything." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  lying  and  standing  upon  cere- 
mony? Eat,  and  may  it  do  you  good.  Be  pleased  to 
take  this,"  said  Masloboinikof,  holding  out  to  him  a 
piece  of  fish  on  the  point  of  his  Tartar  knife.  "  Take 
it  —  it  has  roe  in  it." 

Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  was  dumfounded  at  this  breach 
of  table  etiquette,  but  he  rallied,  and  took  the  fish 
in  his  hand,  like  all  the  others,  but  he  forgot  to 
take  off  his  white  gantlets,  and  when  he  noticed  this 
mistake  he  found  it  difficult  to  repair  it.  There  was  no 
place  to  put  down  the  piece  of  fish.  On  the  carpet  — 
that  was  full  of  dust,  and  there  was  even  a  fragment 


A  VERY  DISAGREEABLE  AND  DIFFICULT  SITUATION.       205 

of  dried  dung  clinging  to  it.  On  his  knee — that  was 
also  inconvenient;  and  Natalia  Martinovna  was  look- 
ing, and  probably  smiling  —  though  Rovitch  could  not 
see  it  he  felt  it  —  and  he  was  ready  to  fling  away  this 
miserable  greasy  piece  of  fried  fish.  He  was  already 
withdrawing  his  hand  a  little  to  do  it  unobserved,  when 
the  black  bob-tailed  dog  Medvedka  got  him  out  of  his 
difficulty.  The  dog  had  been  sitting  there  for  some 
time,  looking  at  the  appetizing  morsel;  now  the  oppor- 
tunity came,  and  he  made  use  of  it.  A  general  laugh 
ensued,  the  clear  baby-voice  of  Petka  ringing  out 
above  all  others. 

"Well,  now  you  are  without  fish,"  one  of  the  officers 
condoled  with  him,  "  and  it  is  all  given  out.  It  was 
your  own  fault." 

Sergei  Nikolaievitch  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  Excuse 
me,  gentlemen  ;  I  should  be  only  too  happy,  but  —  but 
it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  I  should  see  the  com- 
mander of  the  expedition  immediately.  There  is  so 
much  work — " 

"  But  your  tea? "  suggested  Natalia. 

"No;  thank  you.  I  have—  Rovitch  once  more 
essayed  to  convey  to  her  in  a  glance  all  that  he  would 
have  said  in  words,  bowed  gracefully,  and  stepped  back, 
but  came  near  falling  over  that  cursed  dog,  which  man- 
aged to  get  between  his  legs.  At  last  he  succeeded  in 
getting  safely  out  of  the  little  garden,  cursing  almost 
audibly  the  various  accidents  which  had  thus  far  pre- 
vented him  from  carrying  out  his  sacred,  righteous 
intentions. 

Suddenly  another  idea  came  into  his  head  —  why  not 
write  ?  It  was  true  that  in  a  letter  he  could  not  express 
all  that  he  would  have  said  to  her  face  to  face,  but 
he  could  say  much.  It  really  seemed  to  be  his  only 


296  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

outlet  from  a  rather  embarrassing  position,  but  an  out- 
let which  must  be  used  quickly,  in  view  of  their 
approaching  return  to  the  permanent  camp. 

Through  all  that  march,  from  the  midday  halt  to  the 
night  camp,  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  was  considering  the 
contents  of  this  letter.  He  finally  came  to  a  conclusion, 
and  the  camp  had  scarcely  been  established  when  he 
went  to  work  at  his  task.  At  first  he  wrote  the  whole 
letter  in  French,  but  subsequently  remembered  that 
Natalia  was  not  very  strong  in  that  language  and  prob- 
ably would  not  understand  it  at  all.  It  had  to  be  trans- 
lated into  Russian,  but  the  result  was  not  satisfactory, 
and  he  began  anew.  How  many  sheets  of  paper  were 
spoiled  by  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  while  concocting  this 
second  letter! 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  me?  "  he  thought.  "  How 
easy  it  came  to  me  formerly  to  write  such  letters,  and 
now  —  but  wait!  Something  has  to  be  done.  I  have 
simply  become  stupid  —  I  am  a  fool!  " 

What  troubled  him  most  was  the  question  how  to 
address  her;  the  remainder  would  come  to  him  easily 
enough,  but  these  few  words  were  difficult  to  frame  — 
they  always  appeared  to  him  stilted  and  formal,  not 
feeling  enough. 

The  entire  night  was  consumed  in  his  struggle  with 
this  letter,  but  at  last  victory  perched  upon  Rovitch's 
banner  —  the  letter  was  finished,  sealed,  and  addressed. 
His  Cossack  orderly  was  dispatched  with  the  missive, 
and  nothing  remained  but  to  submit  to  fate  and  wait. 

When  the  column  started  upon  its  march,  Sergei 
Nikolai'evitch  managed  to  watch  his  orderly  from  a  dis- 
tance as  he  delivered  the  letter  to  Natalia  Martinovna. 
He  saw  her  take  it  and  open  it,  looking  around  inquir- 


THE    LETTER    OF    SERGEI    NIKOLAIEVITCH.  297 

ingly,  and  finally  read  it,  blushing  up  to  her  ears,  when 
her  "  body-guard  "  crowded  around  her. 

What  was  that?  Merciful  God!  she  gave  the  letter 
into  their  hands;  they  read  it  aloud  —  that  was  clear! 
Now  they  were  all  getting  down  from  their  saddles  to 
listen.  They  were  laughing  and  she  smiling.  Ah!  if 
that  were  the  treatment  he  was  to  receive,  they,  and 
she  also,  should  smart  for  it!? 

Sergei  Nikolaievitch  held  on  to  the  pommel  of  his 
saddle  with  both  hands,  feeling  as  if  he  were  losing 
consciousness  and  about  to  fall  from  his  horse. 

However,  he  held  on. 


CHAPTER  L. 

THE    LETTER    OF  SERGEI    NIKOLAlfEVITCH  AND  THE  ANSWER 

TO   IT. 

"MY  DEAREST  MADAM  NATALIA  MARTINOVNA." 

This  was  the  beginning  of  Rovitch's  letter,  a  begin- 
ning which  had  caused  him  so  much  trouble,  and  which, 
in  his  opinion,  formed  the  most  difficult  part  of  the 
whole  composition. 

"My  treasure;  my  dear  one,  ever  to  be  remem- 
bered; my  own;  my  fondly  loved  one;  my  passionately 
beloved  " —  all  these  epithets  flowed  easily  from  the  pen, 
as  they  came  from  the  heart;  but  it  would  not  do  to 
embody  all  these  terms  of  endearment  in  a  fatal  mes- 
sage upon  which  depended  the  future  fate  of  the  writer, 
his  future  life,  as  it  appeared  to  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch. 
It  was  necessary  to  consider  well,  he  thought;  to  weigh 
every  word.  It  would  be  best  to  begin  plainly,  or  even 


298  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

coldly,  in  order  not  to  act  too  suddenly  iipon  her  kind, 
easily  inflamed  heart;  to  induce  her,  also,  to  take  the 
letter  seriously,  to  weigh  every  word,  and  to  appraise  at 
its  true  value  every  hint.  It  was  necessary  to  write  in 
such  a  way  that  when  she  should  rest  her  hand  with  the 
letter  in  it  upon  her  knee,  lowering  her  glistening  eyes 
and  sinking  into  profound  meditation,  this  letter  would 
serve  to  guide  her  thoughts,  and  to  assist  her  in  giving 
answers  to  its  questions  and  in  overcoming  any  hesita- 
tion that  might  still  incumber  her  mind,  as  well  as  in 
conquering  the  unfavorable  promptings  which  would 
probably  be  conveyed  to  her  from  those  fellows  wJio  cat 
fried  fish  with  their  fingers  —  those  uncouth,  ragged 
pages  and  knights.  Later  on,  little  by  little,  passion, 
possessing  itself  of  the  writer's  whole  being,  would 
have  to  assert  itself  more  and  more  clearly  to  act  upon 
her  heart  after  her  head  had  been  duly  prepared  by 
moderate  and  sensible  phrases. 

This  was  the  plan,  of  campaign  conceived  by  Sergei 
Nikolaievitch  for  his  attack  by  letter;  no  wonder  that 
he  considered  it  so  long.  It  was  a  cunningly  conceived 
plan,  before  which  even  more  experienced  and  worldly 
ladies  would  probably  have  succumbed  —  why  not  a 
simple-minded  daughter  of  the  steppe,  who  once  had 
given  him  her  trustful,  unbounded  love? 

In  conform ance  with  this  plan,  the  letter  began  with 
a  formal  address: 

"Mv  DEAREST  MADAM  NATALIA  MARTINOVNA: 

"  Forgive  me  if  I  begin  by  recalling  memories  which 
may  not  be  altogether  agreeable  to  you,  and  perhaps 
even  sorrowful.  How  can  I  help  it?  These  memories 
must  create  in  me  a  still  greater  anguish  and  sor- 
row —  the  anguish  of  the  criminal  in  remembering  his 


THE    LETTER    OF    SERGEI    NIKOLAIEVITCH.  299 

crime.  But  if  the  criminal  finds  grim  consolation  in 
confessing  his  fault,  it  must  be  surely  permitted  to  one 
to  seek  forgiveness  before  the  face  of  an  angel,  to  con- 
fess to  you,  and  to  disperse  all  the  doubts  and  distrust 
which  I  experience  at  the  present  moment. 

"  A  few  years  ago  we  met,  and  you  loved  me.  You 
even  preferred  me  to  a  man  who  subsequently  died  on 
account  of  this  preference.  I  also  loved  you,  and  was 
consumed  by  a  passion  in  the  ardor  of  which  I  was 
unable  to  weigh  the  possible  consequences  of  the  con- 
summation of  our  love.  I  was  still  very  young,  and  did 
not  know  how  to  appreciate  the  sincere  feelings  of  the 
woman  who  evidently  had  been  destined  for  me  by 
Providence. 

"  Under  the  influence  of  the  maxims  and  requiremerrts 
of  the  circles  to  which  I  belong  I  was  induced  to  sacri- 
fice the  consummation  of  my  love.  Circumstances 
weighed  upon  me  to  such  an  extent  that  our  marriage 
became  impossible,  and  I  was  forced  to  go  away  with- 
out taking  leave  of  you  in  order  to  avoid,  for  my  own 
sake  as  well  as  for  yours,  the  anguish  of  the  parting 
moments.  I  wrote  you  a  letter  which  may  have  seemed 
to  you  a  little  cold,  but  believe  me  when  I  say  that  the 
words  of  that  letter  were  far  from  giving  expression  to 
the  voice  of  my  heart,  or  to  what  I  felt  in  those  minutes 
full  of  anguish. 

"  It  appeared  as  if  all  were  over  between  us.  A  dis- 
tance of  several  thousand  versts  separated  us.  There 
was  no  prospect  of  our  ever  meeting  again.  Little  by 
little  you  could  have  forgotten  me,  loved  another,  and 
even  been  happy;  and  I  also,  in  my  turn,  hoped  to 
extinguish  little  by  little  the  flame  of  my  passion,  the 
fire  which  was  consuming  my  heart,  and  perhaps  to 
meet  a  woman  fit  to  eliminate  your  bright  angelic 


300  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

image  from  my  soul.  But  things  do  not  happen  as  we 
expect.  Grim  conscience  troubled  me;  your  image 
pursued  me  everywhere:  in  the  glare  and  glitter  of  life 
in  St.  Petersburg,  in  the  splendors  of  theaters  and 
halls  —  in  all  the  noisy  recreations  of  the  great  world 
which  surrounded  me  I  could  not  forget  you.  I  could 
not  still  the  voice  of  my  heart.  I  passed  untouched  by 
tens  and  hundreds  of  women — women  before  whom 
all  fell  down  and  worshiped,  ready  for  any  sacrifice. 
I  could  not  even  look  upon  them  —  you  filled  my  whole 
soul;  and  I  wandered  in  loneliness,  with  pain  in  my 
heart,  full  of  cruel  reproaches  which  gave  me  no  rest 
for  even  a  minute." 

("If  you  must  lie,  do  it  well!"  thought  Sergei 
Nikola'ievitch;  but  after  he  had  written  it  he  really  did 
not  think  that  he  lied,  but  that  all  this  was  true,  and 
must  be  true  —  only  he  had  never  thus  far  happened  to 
notice  his  own  sufferings.  Now  he  saw  them,  and  con- 
vinced himself  of  their  existence.) 

"  At  last  my  condition  became  unbearable.  I  dropped 
everything  and  resolved  to  visit  once  more  this  savage 
country,  to  search  for  you,  to  fall  upon  my  knees  and 
to  regain  my  lost  happiness.  I  have  come. 

"  You  may  imagine  the  terrible  shock  I  received  when 
I  heard  of  all  that  had  befallen  you.  At  first  I  felt  as 
if  I  could  not  bear  it  —  I  was  near  self -destruction;  but 
my  strength  of  will  saved  me  from  that  pitiable  end, 
and  I  resolved  to  devote  all  that  remained  of  my  life  to 
the  search  for  you  if  you  were  alive,  and  to  solitude 
within  the  walls  of  a  monastery  if  you  no  longer 
existed  in  this  world. 

"  Providence  brought  me  here,  and  the  same  Provi- 
dence preserved  you.  Let  us  not  act  contrary  to  its 
holy  will,  but  let  us  calmly  consider  all  the  circum- 


THE    LETTER    OF    SERGEI    NIKOLAl'EVITCH.  301 

stances.  I  am  guilty  before  you,  and  for  that  I  have 
suffered  much.  You  will  forgive  me  my  guilt,  because 
there  exists  no  crime  that  can  not  be  forgiven,  and 
this  crime  has  already  been  expiated  by  my  sufferings. 
You  will  find  in  me  a  faithful  and  devoted  husband; 
our  child  a  father  and  a  name.  Oh,  how  I  love  that 
boy!  With  what  envy  I  look  from  afar  upon  those  who 
may  caress  him  unrestrainedly,  while  I,  his  father,  do 
not  dare  even  to  approach  him! 

"  We  will,  all  three  of  us,  be  happy  —  I  am  fully  con- 
vinced of  that  —  and  our  life  will  be  one  endless, 
merry,  bright  holiday. 

"  Upon  your  glance,  in  which  I  already  read  forgive- 
ness —  upon  a  single  word  from  you  now  depends  all 
this  happiness.  Throw,  then,  that  little  glance;  speak 
that  little  word  which  must  decide  my  fate. 

"  You  are  dearer  to  me  than  anything  in  this  world. 
You  are  necessary  to  me;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  I  feel 
that  I  may  say  that  only  I  can  make  you  perfectly 
happy.  My  means  are  such  that  neither  you  nor  our 
boy  will  ever  know  want  or  privations.  I  will  sur- 
round you  with  luxury  and  contentment,  and  will  lead 
you  into  the  brilliant  circle  of  my  equals  in  society,  in 
which  you  will  occupy  the  most  honorable  position. 
Have  compassion  on  me.  Do  not  take  from  me  that 
one  bright,  sweet  hope;  do  not  deprive  your  son  of  his 
father,  but  extend  to  me  once  more  your  honest,  much- 
prized  hand. 

"  Every  moment  of  waiting  for  your  answer  seems  to 
mean  eternity — do  not  impose  an  additional  burden 
of  pain  upon  one  already  well-nigh  worn  out.  I  shall 
follow  you  at  a  distance,  and  I  shall  read  my  answer 
upon  your  angel  face  before  I  hear  it.  Oh,  God!  how 
passionately,  how  ardently  I  love  you!  I  feel  that  my 
heart  may  break  —  I  feel  it! 


302  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

"  I  fondly  kiss  your  feet,  your  hands,  your  garments, 
my  cherished,  only,  worshiped  Natalia  Martinovna  — 
my  Natasha!  " 

The  word  Natasha  was  underlined  twice,  and  near  it 
there  appeared  a  yellowish  wrinkled  blot.  This  was 
an  actual,  real  tear  of  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  —  nothing 
else  —  only  it  had  not  fallen  quite  accidentally;  it  had 
been  carefully  prepared  by  the  writer  and  spread  out  a 
little  with  his  finger.  Here  and  there  upon  the  sheet 
of  letter-paper  a  few  more  similar  blots  could  be  seen 
—  weighty  arguments  that  were  to  strengthen  the  im- 
pression of  the  entire  sincerity  of  all  that  had  been 
written. 

At  the  end  of  the  letter  came  the  unavoidable  post- 
script, which  read  as  follows: 

"  Please  try  to  keep  those  who  generally  surround  you 
at  a  distance,  that  I  may  talk  with  you  face  to  face  —  it 
is  necessary.  You  will  agree  with  me  that  there  are 
subjects  of  which  we  can  not  speak  before  witnesses." 

The  letter  was  not  signed.  "Why  sign,  when  she 
knows  very  well  where  it  comes  from? "  very  justly 
considered  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch. 

On  receiving  this  letter,  Natalia  Martinovna  was  at 
first  somewhat  disconcerted.  She  was  turning  the 
missive  between  her  fingers,  undecided  whether  to  open 
it  or  not.  She  looked  about  her  doubtingly,  and  finally 
asked,  mechanically,  "  From  whom? " 

"From  his  honor  Troop  Commander  Rovitch," 
reported  the  orderly.  "  His  honor's  orders  concerning 
an  answer  were,  that  if  it  were  given  quickly  I  was  to 
wait  for  it."  The  last  clause  the  qrderly  added  himself. 

"Oh!  "  said  Natalia,  smiling,  and  began  to  break  the 
seal,  her  fingers  trembling  slightly.  "  How  long  it  is, 
and  what  small  writing!  " 


THE    LETTER    OP    SERGE?   NIKOLAfEVITCH.  303 

"  It  would  be  interesting  to  read  what  he  may  have 
to  say,"  said  Podprugin,  inquisitively,  coming  nearer. 
"  Very  interesting." 

Natalia  Martinovna  did  not  seem  to  think  this  uncere- 
monious curiosity  at  all  strange;  she  even  found  it  very 
natural. 

"  Let  us  go  away,':  Masloboinikof  whispered  to  his 
neighbor.  "  Why  should  we  trouble  her? "  He  nudged 
the  other,  who  did  the  same  to  a  third,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  they  all  rose  and  prepared  to  walk  away. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  gentlemen? "  Natalia  Martin- 
ovna asked,  quite  mechanically. 

"We  must  make  some  arrangements  about  our  com- 
mands and  call  the  sergeants.  We'll  be  back  immedi- 
ately." 

"  There  seems  to  be  some  movement  in  the  rear- 
guard. Perhaps  we  are  going  to  march." 

Natalia  Martinovna  had  in  the  meantime  opened  the 
letter  and  was  reading  it;  the  officers,  in  spite  of  their 
many  reasons  for  going,  were  still  waiting  about. 
What  happened  next  was  seen  by  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch 
standing  in  the  distance,  and  it  caused  him  to  break  out 
in  a  paroxysm  of  rage. 

"  It  is  outrageous!  To  show  it  to  all  and  to  boast  of 
it!  To  laugh  at  me!  "  He  was  repeating  these  phrases 
to  himself  almost  throughout  the  day's  march,  riding  at 
some  distance  from  the  column,  and  venting  his  anger 
upon  his  innocent  horse.  "Ah!  they  do  not  know 
me  yet.  I  will  show  them!  " 

In  the  evening  of  that  day,  a  few  minutes  after  going 
into  camp,  he  received  his  answer.  It  was  brought  by 
Masloboinikof. 

"  I  was  ordered  to  deliver  this  to  you,  Mr.  Troop  Com- 
mander," said  the  ensign,  bending  from  his  saddle  to 


304  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

hand  him  the  letter,  and  with  a  certain  grace  peculiar 
to  the  Cossacks  he  placed  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand 
against  the  visor  of  his  cap.  "  You  need  not  trouble 
yourself  about  an  answer,"  he  added,  as  he  turned  his 
horse. 

"  I  thank  you,"  replied  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch,  pressing 
his  teeth  together,  while  seizing  the  square-folded 
piece  of  paper  which  was  not  even  sealed,  and  answered 
the  other's  salute  by  bringing  his  forefinger  to  his  cap. 
After  waiting  until  Masloboinikof  had  gone  some  dis- 
tance he  began  to  peruse  the  letter. 

Natalia  Martinovna's  answer  was  written  in  pencil, 
in  a  large  and  not  very  regular  hand,  and  was  not  alto- 
gether without  errors  in  grammar. 
"  DEAR  SIR — SERGEI  NIKOLAI'EVITCH: 

"  You  remind  me  of  the  past,  and  ask  me  to  pardon 
you  for  thus  reminding  me.  I  freely  forgive  you  this 
indelicacy,  but  hope  that  you  will  not  repeat  it. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  angry  with  you.  I  am  even  thank- 
ful to  you  for  the  lesson  which  taught  me  to  esteem 
people  at  their  true  value.  This  has  since  been  of  the 
greatest  service  to  me,  and  for  this  I  am  under  some 
obligations  to  you.  You  write  that  in  the  ardor  of 
your  passion  you  did  not  duly  consider  consequences. 
I  agree  with  you,  and  even  go  further.  You  are  allow- 
ing yourself  to  be  carried  away  again  now  by  the 
'ardor  of  your  passion,'  and  it  is  my  business  to  repair 
the  mistake  of  your  new  fancy. 

"  I  refuse  all  your  requests.  I  am  sure  that  later  you 
will  thank  me  for  this  refusal. 

"  The  luxuries  which  you  so  kindly  offer  are  un- 
known to  me,  and  consequently  they  do  not  attract  me; 
neither  does  your  brilliant  society,  in  which  I  would 
find  myself  an  entire  stranger." 


THE    LETTER    OF    SERGEI    NIKOLAIEVITCH.  305 

When  Natalia  wrote  this  last  line  she  smiled  ironic- 
ally. 

"  Write  to  him,  matushka,  that  you  would  like  to  spit 
on  his  society!  "was  the  advice  given  by  Podprugin, 
who  had  taken  a  violent  dislike  to  Rovitch.  "  How  is 
our  society  worse  than  his  in  St.  Petersburg?  The 
coxcombs  and  striped  pheasants!  Just  write  that  you 
will  spit  on  them,  and  then  finish  up!"  Natalia  Mar- 
tinovna  did  not  take  the  advice  of  the  enraged  officer. 

"  Could  I  intrust  my  fate  and  that  of  my  boy  to  a 
man  who  has  once  betrayed  me? "  she  wrote.  "  And 
who  can  vouch  for  you  that  though  you  did  not  forget 
me  you  were  not  carried  away  by  '  the  ardor  of  your 
passion'  for  more  than  one  woman?  It  is  also  very 
possible  that  I  was  not  always  constant,  and  may  have 
been  '  carried  away '  anew,  or  found  a  man  who  could 
make  me  forget  my  first  mistake  and  love  him  suffi- 
ciently to  finally  eliminate  your  image,  which,  how- 
ever, has  never  troubled  me  very  much. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  I  am  constantly  pursued  by 
another  image  —  you  know  of  whom  I  speak  —  and  out 
of  respect  for  this  image  I  could  never  accept  your 
propositions. 

"  As  to  a  name  for  my  son,  you  must  know  that  he 
does  not  bear  yours,  and  I  would  ask  you  not  to  trouble 
yourself  about  it.  He  will  have  his  own  name;  not 
as  brilliant,  perhaps,  but  perfectly  honorable  and  worthy 
of  respect. 

"Who  has  told  you  that  Petka  is  your  son?  That 
he  is  mine  — of  that  there  can  be'  no  doubt,  but  that  is 
all.  I  ask  you  to  understand  that  in  any  sense  you 
like. 

"  It  only  remains  for  me  to  hope  that  with  this  letter 
may  end  all  correspondence  between  us,  and  I  feel  sure 


M 


306  THE    TWO-LEGGED    \VOI.K. 

that  you  will  spare  me  in  the  future  all  further  perse- 
cution, by  killing  glances  or  sighs  as  well  as  by  spoken 
or  written  words." 

Natalia  Martinovna's  letter  was  also  unsigned,  and 
also  accompanied  by  a  postscript: 

"  I  send  you  this  letter  unsealed.  You  observed  your- 
self that  the  reading  of  yours  was  somewhat  public. 
This  ought  to  convince  you  that  I  act  openly  and  freely, 
and  am  not  at  all  inconvenienced  by  the  presence  of 
my  friends,  whom  you  seem  to  dislike.  Why  I  do  not 
understand,  and  do  not  care  to  know." 

"  That's  it!  The  good-for-nothing!  That  is  good  for 
him!  "  said  the  ensign,  as  he  jumped  into  the  saddle. 

"Hurrah!  "  shouted  Kolobkof'and  Masloboinikof. 

"  I  am  only  sorry,"  complained  Sotnik  Mashkin, 
"that  I  did  not  take  a  copy  of  the  letter,  as  a 
memento,  especially  the  last  lines.  You  may  believe 
me,  Matushka,  I  would  have  sewed  it  up  in  a  little- 
bag  and  carried  it  under  my  shirt  —  upon  my  honor!  " 

"We  are  getting  into  Chandir!  "  a  voice  was  heard  to 
say,  in  the  advance. 

On  the  horizon  appeared  rows  of  trees  and  scattered 
half-destroyed  dwellings  —  beyond  them  were  columns 
of  smoke  that  rose  from  the  bivouac-fires  of  the  large 
Russian  camp. 

A  dense  cloud  of  dust  was  now  seen  ahead,  advanc- 
ing rapidly  to  meet  them.  Through  the  dust  the  heads 
of  horses  could  be  distinguished,  shaking  their  manes; 
arms  and  accouterments  glistened,  and  the  tunics  of 
officers  shone  white  through  the  dust.  Shouts  of 
"  hurrah!  "  could  be  distinctly  heard  above  the  thunder- 
ing tramp  of  the  approaching  horses. 

"They  are  ours  coming  out  to  meet  us  —  all  the 
officers! "  shouted  Masloboinikof. 


THE    LETTER    OF    SERGEI    NIKOLAIEVITCH.  307 

"  Look,  look!  There  come  some  soldiers  running  — 
they  are  getting  ahead  of  the  mounted  men!  " 

Natalia  Martinovna,  deeply  moved,  bent  forward 
from  under  her  cart-cover,  and  shading  her  eyes  from 
the  sun  with  one  hand,  she  looked  eagerly  ahead.  Her 
bosom  was  heaving  violently  and  her  eyes  glistened. 
This  woman,  dressed  in  her  ragged  red  Turkoman 
gown  and  a  white  kerchief  around  her  head,  felt  that 
she,  and  she  alone,  was  the  object  and  cause  of  all 
this  uproar,  all  this  excitement.  She  could  restrain 
her  feelings  no  longer,  but  broke  into  tears,  press- 
ing her  boy  to  her  heart.  But  these  were  happy, 
joyous  tears.  Such  tears  do  not  sear  the  face  or  give 
it  a  sorrowful,  suffering  expression,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, they  increase  the  effect  of  the  happy  smile  as 
the  slanting  summer  shower  increases  the  brightness 
of  the  sun  behind  it. 

"Ah,  well!  We'll  see  what  he  will  have  to  say 
to-morrow  when  we  fight!  "  muttered  Sergei  Nikola- 
Yevitch  between  his  teeth,  glancing  at  Golovin,  whom 
he  had  noticed  at  once  at  the  head  of  the  cavalcade 
coming  to  meet  them. 

The  native  messenger  had  reached  the  Russian  camp 
at  Chandir  in  safety,  reporting  directly  to  the  general, 
and  the  news  of  the  successful  issue  of  the  expedition 
rapidly  spread  through  the  camp.  All  were  full  of 
excitement,  and  everybody  was  moving  about. 

Pugovitzin  was  at  the  moment  engaged  in  raking  in 
the  winnings  of  his  one  hundred  and  fourth  cut  —  an 
unusual  streak  of  luck  for  him;  he  had  played  his  third 
jack  and  was  preparing  to  put  down  the  fourth,  having 
before  him  quite  a  respectable  little  pile  of  crumpled, 
greenish  paper  money.  "  Easy,  brother!  "  he  exclaimed 
when  Kustikof  came  flying  into  the  tent,  all  out  of 

20 


308  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

breath,  nearly  upset  the  table,  and  shouted,  excitedly, 
"  Natalia  Martin ovna  —  here!  " 

"  What!  "  cried  the  major,  opening  his  eyes.  The 
other  officers,  forgetting  to  count  up  winnings  or  losses, 
hurried  away  in  various  directions,  stumbling  over  the 
tent-ropes. 

"  They  are  bringing  her!  they  are  bringing  her!  " 
cried  the  lieutenant.  "  A  native  has  come.  They  are 
bringing  her;  they  are  already  near!  " 

Pugovitzin  carefully  examined  Kustikof's  face,  and 
saw  that  there  must  be  some  truth  in  the  report.  The 
whole  camp  was  already  in  an  uproar.  He  could  hear 
excited  phrases  and  the  noise  of  horses  being  hurriedly 
saddled.  The  major  took  off  his  cap  —  he  had  been 
playing  cards  with  his  head  covered  —  reverently  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  then  shouted,  "  Arkhip,  sad- 
dle up!  "  Without  hurrying,  he  walked  over  to  the 
tent  of  his  friend,  the  lame  Cossack. 

"They  will  surprise  him!  "  he  pondered,  as. he  went 
on  his  way.  "  It  will  come  to  him  with  a  shock,  and 
the  doctor  said  only  yesterday,  '  May  God  prevent 
any  sudden  emotion! '  How  can  we  keep  it  from  him? 
It  will  shake  him  up  —  it  would  shake  a  well  man  — 
that  is  as  true  as  that  twice  two  is  four.  I  must  go  to 
him  at  once.  There,  they  are  rushing  in  to  him  —  the 
fools!  Gentlemen,  gentlemen!  carefully  —  not  too  sud- 
denly! He  must  be  prepared  —  listen!  " 

But  nobody  listened.  Four  men  had  already  rushed 
ahead  of  the  corpulent  major  and  stumbled  into  Golo- 
vin's  tent  before  his  very  eyes.  He  could  already  hear 
the  excited  exclamations  of  Kustikof,  who  had  preceded 
everybody. 

"They  are  near,  quite  near!  "  he  heard  him  saying. 
"  The  native  told  us.  They'll  be  here  soon  —  to-day 


THE    LETTER    OF    SERGEI    NIKOLAIEVITCH.  309 

perhaps.  Some  have  already  seen  dust  rising.  It  must 
be  they! " 

When  the  major  entered  the  tent  it  was  already  so 
crowded  that  one  could  turn  round  only  with  the  greatest 
difficulty.  Golovin,  with  a  bright  hectic  flush  upon  his 
cheeks,  was  dressing  hurriedly,  drawing  a  pair  of  high 
top-boots  upon  his  feet,  but  rather  unsuccessfully;  his 
feeble  hands  would  not  serve  him,  and  trembled  piti- 
fully. Great  drops  of  perspiration  stood  upon  the  sick 
man's  forehead.  In  sharp  contrast  with  the  hectic 
cheeks  was  the  deathly  pallor  of  the  remainder  of  his 
face.  His  eyes  shone  with  a  feverish  luster. 

"You  are  not  strong,  my  poor  fellow!  Hey!  why 
don't  you  help  him  to  dress?  "  said  Pugovitzin.  "  You 
are  overdoing  it,  brother;  you  will  hurt  yourself.  Now, 
what  is  all  this  talk  about?  Why  are  you  hurrying  so? 
They  have  found  her,  thanks  be  to  God!  But  be  quiet!  " 

"  I  felt  it  in  my  heart!  I  felt  it  in  my  heart!  "  mut- 
tered Golovin.  "  My  horse,  for  God's  sake,  my  horse! 
Saddle  the  bay  —  he  can  run  better!  " 

"  You  are  going  yourself,  are  you?  What  are  you 
thinking  of?  Sit  down  and  wait.  I  declare  —  you  burn 
like  fire! " 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  dying?  I  am  well,  don't  you 
see?  I  can  stand  quite  strongly  on  my  legs.  I  am  per- 
fectly well  —  look !  "  And  Golovin  squeezed  the  major's 
arm  until  he  made  him  frown  against  his  will. 

"Ah!  "  grumbled  the  major,  "why  did  they  tell  him? 
They  wanted  to  cheer  him!  They  have  been  stupid 
asses.  Well,  perhaps  God  will  help  you  —  I  will  not 
keep  you  back.  Hold  on,  though;  let  me  help  you  to 
mount!  Hold  the  horse,  Cossack!  Why  did  you  not 
bring  mine,  you  devil's  imps  —  quicker!  " 

"Here!   the  horse  is  ready,   your  honor,"  reported 


310  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

Arkhip,  pushing  through  the  crowd  and  leading  the 
major's  charger  by  the  bridle.  "Here!  will  you  please 
to  seat  yourself? " 

"  You  must  not  run  him,  however,"  Pugovitzin 
warned  Golovin.  "  You  will  meet  them  in  good  time." 
But  the  lame  Cossack,  who  had  just  been  staggering 
with  weakness,  seemed  completely  transformed  when 
he  found  himself  astride  of  a  saddle.  He  sat  his  horse 
quite  firmly,  and  soon  let  him  break  into  a  full  run,  tak- 
ing the  lead  of  the  cavalcade  crowding  through  the 
narrow  avenues  between  the  bivouacs. 

In  the  ranks  of  the  soldiers  the  news  of  Natalia  Mar- 
tinovna's  rescue  created  no  less  excitement.  The 
white  blouses  came  running,  without  caps  or  hats,  just 
as  they  were,  and  by  cutting  "across  lots,"  climbing 
over  fences,  jumping  across  ditches,  sometimes  wading 
and  sometimes  on  hands  and  knees,  they  were  outrun- 
ning the  mounted  men. 

"  If  the  Turkomans  were  to  fall  upon  us  now  when 
we  are  in  such  a  mess!  "  said  a  discontented  sentry  to 
an  orderly;  not  so  much  disgusted  with  the  crowd  as 
with  the  fact  that  his  duties  prevented  him  from  being 
with  it,  and  from  taking  part  in  the  joyous  meeting 
with  the  "little  mother  benefactress." 

This  was  the  crowd  of  mounted  and  foot  men  that 
was  seen  pushing  forward  to  meet  the  Cossack  detach- 
ment returning  from  its  joyful  march,  or  rather  its 
successful  reconnaissance. 


THE    DECISION    OF    NATALIA    MARTINOVNA.  311 


CHAPTER  LI. 

THE     DECISION     OF     NATALIA     MARTINOVNA     AND    THE 
RESULTS  OF  ROVITCH's  CHALLENGE. 

DURING  the  same  evening  an  interesting  scene  was 
being  enacted  in  Golovin's  tent. 

The  lame  Cossack,  after  withstanding  a  tremendous 
shock  not  at  all  commensurate  with  his  strength,  lay 
upon  his  bed  weak,  motionless,  white  as  a  sheet,  with 
barely  perceptible  respiration.  Anybody  looking  in 
upon  him  at  that  moment  would  have  felt  sure  that  he 
saw  a  corpse  before  him;  but  by  looking  more  closely 
and  attentively  one  could  see  that  there  was  much  life 
still  left  in  those  eyes  that  were  so  fondly  gazing  upon 
a  woman  seated  close  to  his  couch.  These  eyes  alone 
spoke  of  the  feelings  that  filled  this  sick  man's  soul  to 
overflowing,  and  had  reduced  him  to  this  sorry  plight. 

Golovin  lay  there  silent,  but  how  much  he  would 
have  wished  to  say!  But  he  said  nothing,  not  only 
because  his  tongue  was  not  strong  enough  to  move  in 
his  fever-dried,  inflamed  mouth,  but  because  of  another 
man  sitting  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  in  a  white  blouse, 
under  which  a  yellow  silk  shirt  could  be  seen,  and  a 
doctor's  epaulets  upon  his  broad  but  somewhat  rounded 
shoulders. 

This  man  had  been  repeating  a  single  sentence 
nearly  a  hundred  times.  He  repeated  it  every  time 
that  he  noticed  an  inclination  on  the  part  of  his  patient 
to  use  his  tongue. 

"  Do  not  dare  to  speak! "  commanded  the  doctor. 
"  If  you  only  open  your  mouth  to  talk  some  foolishness 


312  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

I  shall  send  Natalia  Martinovna  away  at  once,  and  will 
not  permit  her  to  visit  you  again  without  my  written 
permission!  Do  you  understand?  " 

But  at  this  moment  the  hand  of  Natalia  Martinovna 
gently  covered  the  mouth  of  the  sick  man,  who  made 
use  of  the  opportunity  to  kiss  the  slender  emaciated 
fingers. 

Upon  a  camp-stool  in  the  center  of  the  hut  sat 
Pugovitzin,  also  repeating  over  and  over  a  single 
reassuring  phrase. 

"  Ah,  never  mind!  He  will  be  quite  a  man  yet.  You 
will  see  whether  we  do  not  put  him  on  his  legs  within 
a  month !  Remember  my  word  —  as  true  as  that  twice 
two  is  four!  " 

Kustikof  was  also  in  the  tent,  and  had  so  cun- 
ningly managed  to  seat  himself  that  he  could  easily 
seize  Natalia  Martinovna's  unoccupied  hand,  which  she 
did  not  withdraw,  being  convinced  that  he  was  fully 
aware  to  whom  that  hand  belonged. 

Podprugin  and  Masloboinikof,  passing  by,  looked  in 
to  ascertain  how  matters  were  progressing  in  the  tent, 
which  was  easy  enough  to  do  as  all  the  walls  but  one 
had  been  hoisted  up  to  procure  ventilation. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  tent  stood  Major  Birnaps,  who 
had  tried  so  hard  to  have  his  battalion  ordered  to  join 
the  expedition.  The  good-hearted  but  self-satisfied 
"  Estlander  "  stood  with  his  legs  apart  and  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  and  was  blowing  great  white  clouds  of 
smoke  from  his  long  pipe,  which  he  had  just  filled  with 
his  special  brand  of  plug.  His  broad,  red  face,  framed 
in  stiff  yellow  side-whiskers,  was  completely  hidden 
behind  this  curtain  of  tobacco-smoke. 

Natalia  Martinovna  had  already  exchanged  her  Turk- 
oman costume  for  her  own  gray  dress,  with  black  apron 


THE    DECISION    OF    NATALIA    MARTINOVNA.  313 

and  white  cape  of  muslin.  Her  clothes  had  been  pre- 
served by  Golovin  after  her  flight,  and  had  ever  since 
that  time  lain  in  his  trunks,  jealously  guarded  as  sacred 
relics. 

"Now  listen!"  said  Natalia  Martinovna  to  the  sick 
man,  laying  her  hand  upon  his  cold  though  perspiring 
brow.  "  I  shall  cure  you,  together  with  the  doctor.  He 
will  cure  your  body  and  I  will  cure  the  soul.  I  want  to 
cure  you,,  and  I  shall  do  it.  I  am  very  selfish,  you  know, 
and  I  shall  cure  you  for  my  own  sake  only.  Nobody 
but  you,  my  dear,  shall  be  my  husband.  Now  you 
know  it,  and  you  must  make  an  effort  to  get  better." 

"Oh,  never  mind!  He  will  be  a  good  man  yet. 
You'll  sec  how  we  will  get  him  upon  his  legs  in  a  month. 
I  shall  be  acting  as  father  —  what  a  wedding  we  shall 
have! " 

"And  I  will  be  best  man!"  chimed  in  Kustikof. 
"  May  I  be  best  man,  Natalia  Martinovna?  You  could 
not  select  anybody  but  me.  Yes,  will  you  have  me? " 

"  And  how  I  shall  drink  at  that  wedding!  "  exclaimed 
Major  Birnaps,  through  the  cloud  of  tobacco-smoke. 
"Howl  shall  drink!" 

"  That  will  help  us  more  -than  any  drugs,"  said  the 
doctor;  "if  this  great  power  can  not  accomplish  his 
cure,  what  could  our  medicine-chest  do?  I  shall  bring 
you  a  little  powder,  all  the  same,  and  some  drops,  and 
all  this  will  be  taken  in  strictest  conform  ance  with 
instructions  as  pasted  upon  the  bottle." 

"  Am  I  alive? "  whispered  the  patient  almost  inaudibly. 

"*Sh!"  Natalia  Martinovna  once  more  closed  his 
mouth.  "  Not  a  word!  " 

"  Silence,  or  I  shall  immediately  send  away  all,  with- 
out exception!  " 

"  You  owe  the  doctor  just  as  unquestioning  obedience 


314  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

as  you  do  the  general  —  the  relations  between  doctors 
and  patients  may  be  compared  — " 

"  Have  you  not  finished  your  pipe? "  Natalia  Mar- 
tinovna  interrupted  Birnap's  tedious  philosophizing. 
"The  whole  tent  is  full  of  smoke!" 

"  I  have  finished  and  am  now  placing  it  in  my 
pocket,"  prosed  the  major,  slowly  packing  up  his  smok- 
ing-apparatus. 

"Here  is  a  letter  for  your  honor,"  said  a  soldier, 
coming  to  "  attention  "  in  front  of  the  tent  and  extend- 
ing with  one  hand  a  sealed  envelope. 

"  From  whom  is  this?  "  asked  Pugovitzin,  seizing  the 
letter. 

"  From  his  honor  Mr.  Troop  Commander  Rovitch." 

"  For  Golovin! "  muttered  the  major,  frowning. 
"  Well,  excuse  me,  brother;  I  will  open  it  for  you  and 
read  it.  Oho!  " 

The  patient  was  "not  up  to  letters  "  at  this  moment 
wherever  they  came  from,  and  he  paid  no  attention 
whatever  to  this  little  occurrence. 

As  Pugovitzin  read,  an  expression  of  anger  came 
over  his  face.  He  handed  Rovitch's  letter  to  Birnaps, 
who  also  read  it,  and  exclaiming,  "  Coxcomb,  beast!  "  he 
passed  it  on  to  Kustikof,  who  again  read  it,  passing  it 
in  silence  into  the  doctor's  hands.  In  this  way  the  con- 
tents of  the  missive  became  known  to  all  but  the  one 
to  whom  it  was  addressed.  Natalia  Martinovna  also 
became  very  much  interested  in  it  when  she  saw  the 
angry  expression  of  those  who  read  it.  She  held  out 
her  hand  for  it.  "  What  is  it?  Give  it  to  me!  " 

"This  does  not  concern  you  at  all,  matushka,"  said 
Pugovitzin,  and  unceremoniously  walked  out  of  the 
tent,  seizing  the  paper,  which  was  then  in  the  doctor's 
hand. 


THE    DECISION    OF    NATALIA    MARTINOVNA.  315 

The  letter  was  very  brief  —  only  a  few  straggling 
lines  written  in  a  nervous,  uncertain  hand: 

"DEAR  SIR:  All  explanations  are  unnecessary.  You 
must  feel  convinced  that  the  business  between  us  can 
only  be  settled  by  a  duel;  therefore,  if  you  are  not  a 
coward,  I  shall  await  you  to-morrow  at  daylight, 
behind  the  grove  of  Chandir,  two  versts  from  the  camp. 

"  I  have  no  seconds  —  you  may  bring  your  own,  as 
many  as  you  like;  it  is  all  the  same  to  me. 

"ROVITCH." 

Half  an  hour  later,  after  consultation  with  several 
officers  called  together  for  the  purpose,  an  answer  was 
composed,  copied,  and  dispatched  to  its  destination. 
This  answer,  not  less  brief  than  Rovitch's  letter,  was 
as  follows: 

"  You,  my  dear  sir,  must  be  either  a  fool  or  an  impu- 
dent clown.  In  the  first  case  God  will  forgive  your 
stupidity,  but  in  the  second  case  you  deserve  to  be 
soundly  thrashed,  and  in  order  to  avoid  this  we  advise 
you  to  immediately  leave  the  expedition  and  to  return 
to  wherever  you  came  from. 

"(Signed)        By  general  request, 

"  PUGOVITZIN." 

"  I  ought  to  go  and  shoot  them  all  like  dogs!  "  angrily 
exclaimed  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch,  after  reading  the 
answer  to  his  challenge;  but  then  he  began  to  recon- 
sider. He  was  thinking  and  considering  for  a  long 
time,  nearly  all  night,  and  by  morning  he  had  arrived 
at  the  following  conclusions:  To  embroil  himself  with 
them  was  impracticable  for  many  reasons.  In  these 
wild  places,  with  manners  and  morals  of  savages,  bereft 


316  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

of  all  civilized  influences,  one  might  deteriorate  or  be 
seriously  injured  in  health.  It  would  really  be  better 
to  go  while  still  in  good  health  and  unaffected  in  any 
way  by  life  among  savages.  And,  strange  coincidence, 
he  had  no  sooner  made  up  his  mind  to  this  when  he 
experienced  a  radical  change  in  his  own  feelings.  The 
flame  of  his  great  passion  for  Natalia  Martinovna  sud- 
denly began  to  flicker,  and  subsided  with  astonishing 
rapidity.  And  thus  he  made  up  his  mind.  That  scan- 
dalous, libelous  letter,  Pugovitzin's  answer,  was  imme- 
diately burned  in  the  blaze  of  a  match,  and  Rovitch's 
faithful  orderly  received  orders  to  pack  his  master's 
trunks. 

All  that  still  remained  to  be  done  was  to  send  in  his 
request  for  a  furlough,  to  receive  it,  and  to  depart. 
While  attending  to  these  details  he  received  another 
letter  from  the  same  persons,  in  which  he  was  assured 
that  the  whole  affair  would  be  kept  secret,  and  that  he 
would  not  be  compromised  if  he  behaved  himself  in  the 
future  and  gave  no  further  provocation.  This  second 
letter  was  very  consoling  and  quieting  to  Sergei'  Niko- 
lai'evitch's  soul;  he  even  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
though  these  knights  of  the  steppe  were  a  little  savage, 
they  were  also  good  fellows,  and  did  not  bite  promiscu- 
ously like  enraged  dogs. 

Sergei  Nikolai'evitch's  request  for  a  furlough  was  not 
refused. 


EPILOGUE.  317 

CHAPTER  LII. 

EPILOGUE. 

THE  old  gunner's  house  at  Chiniaz  was  waking  up. 

For  a  long  time  —  ever  since  the  death  of  the  gunner, 
Martin  Fedorovitch  Chishikof,  and  the  subsequent  tak- 
ing off  of  his  scolding  helpmeet,  the  shutters  which  pro- 
tected the  numerous  windows  of  the  little  house  had 
been  closed,  as  well  as  the  doors,  over  the  locks  of  which 
great  seals  of  red  wax,  suspended  by  strings,  had  been 
placed  by  the  authorities,  to  await  the  appearance  of 
heirs. 

The  interior  of  the  little  house  was  dark  and  damp. 
Slender  threads  of  sunlight  sometimes  passed  through 
the  cracks  of  the  shutters,  gliding  over  the  walls  hung 
thickly  with  cobwebs,  over  the  angular  protuberances 
of  furniture  softened  in  outline  by  thick  layers  of  dust. 
How  much  time  had  passed  away  since  a  single  foot 
had  entered  here  —  or  since  a  single  hand  armed  with  a 
brush  had  carefully  dusted  and  rubbed  this  furniture! 
All  was  covered  up  —  hidden,  forgotten.  The  place 
had  been  left  a  playground  for  mice  and  rats,  and  a 
workshop  for  the  spiders,  who  had  filled  all  corners 
with  the  product  of  their  diminutive  looms,  and  taken 
possession  of  the  whole  room.  From  the  stove  to  the 
cupboard,  from  the  cupboard  to  the  little  hanging 
lamp,  from  there  to  the  neck  of  a  bottle  that  had  been 
forgotten  on  the  window-sill,  from  there  again  to  the 
corner  their  fine  frail  nets  were  suspended. 

And  now,  all  at  once,  there  came  a  revolution. 

The  doors  had  been  unsealed  and  stood  wide  open; 


318  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

the  fresh  air  was  penetrating  into  the  long-neglected 
dwelling,  passing  through  it  at  will,  stirring  up  the  rags 
and  remnants  that  had  outlived  the  past.  The  furniture 
was  carried  into  the  yard  and  carefully  overhauled. 
Two  women  with  petticoats  triced  up  to  their  belts  were 
throwing  water  over  the  floors,  wading  about  with 
cloths  and  buckets;  the  walls  were  being  plastered 
anew  until  they  shone  in  snowy  whiteness.  The 
alarmed  mice  looked  askance  upon  all  this  turmoil  from 
a  crack  in  the  floor.  The  poor  things  probably  won- 
dered what  all  this  chaos  was  about  —  these  uncalled- 
for,  untimely  reforms;  how  much  better  it  was  when 
they  had  their  own  way,  in  the  good  old  times!  And 
the  spiders?  They  had  long  since  been  made  to  submit 
to  fate,  and  were  swept  away  and  carried  off  with  the 
other  litter  into  the  yard,  where  the  chickens  had  made 
short  work  of  most  of  them.  A  few  that  escaped  made 
their  way  laboriously  over  the  grass- grown  yard  to 
some  outhouses,  where  they  set  up  their  shop  and  con- 
tinued to  labor,  complacently  saying  to  each  other, 
"  The  world  is  large,  and  there  is  room  for  all!  " 

But  those  who  were  effecting  this  complete  upheaval 
and  attending  to  the  resurrection  of  the  little  home  — 
the  two  women  and  a  soldier,  who  were  subsequently 
reinforced  by  two  Cossacks  from  Golovin's  sotnia  — 
they  did  not  care  what  became  of  the  mice  and  the  sur- 
viving spiders.  They  had  only  one  object,  one  thought. 

"  Lively  there,  children;  lively!  The  master  will  be 
here  in  two  days  from  Tashkent.  Let  everything  be 
ready!"  And  they  did  hurry  and  strive  to  prepare, 
freshen  up,  and  cleanse  the  house  in  time  for  the  ar- 
rival of  its  owners  from  Tashkent.  They  had  come  to 
Tashkent  from  Kazalinsk,  and  had  reached  Kazalinsk, 
coming  from  the  banks  of  the  Amu,  on  the  steamer 


EPILOGUE.  319 

Perovsk,  by  way  of  the  Aral  Sea.  These  owners  were 
Golovin  and  his  wife,  Natalia  Martinovna,  with  her  son 
Petka. 

The  united  efforts  of  an  able  physician  and  a  loving 
woman  had  conquered  the  lame  Cossack's  malady — a 
disease  which  had  been  caused  chiefly  by  moral  and 
mental  anguish  and  excitement.  Quiet  and  loving 
attention  aided  in  restoring  the  patient's  lost  strength; 
his  pale  cheeks  resumed  their  bright,  healthy  color, 
and  he  was  soon  upon  the  high  road  to  perfect  re- 
covery. 

The  happy,  but,  under  the  circumstances,  necessarily 
quiet  and  modest  wedding  of  Golovin  and  Natalia  took 
place  in  the  camp.  The  lame  Cossack's  term  of  active 
service  was  approaching  its  end,  and  for  many  reasons 
he  thought  it  better  to  remain  there,  in  Central  Asia, 
where  fate  had  given  him  happiness,  than  to  return  to 
his  own  home,  at  Yai'k,  where  he  had  no  ties.  As  their 
place  of  residence  they  had  selected  Chiniaz,  on  the 
Syr  Daria.  This  was  the  cause  of  the  bustle  of  cleans- 
ing and  restoration  of  order  in  the  long-forgotten 
house  of  the  old  gunner. 

A  year  or  two  ago,  during  my  last  journey  in  Central 
Asia,  I  visited  Chiniaz,  and  there  met  the  happy  couple. 
The  old  gunner's  house  was  altered  almost  beyond 
recognition;  the  change  was  as  great  as  if  a  feeble  old 
man  had  by  some  secret  charm  been  transformed  into 
a  blooming  youth  of  fifteen. 

A  dense  screen  of  green  climbing  vines  covered  the 
outer  walls  of  the  little  house,  and  between  the  emerald 
foliage  sparkled  and  glistened  bright  windows  with 
clean  white  curtains.  The  picket-fence  shone  in  bright 
colors;  over  the  sand  of  the  cleanly  swept  yard  prome- 


320  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

naded  the  hens,  escorted  by  their  conceited  rooster- 
husband;  horses  snorted  and  neighed  in  the  shady 
stable  lately  filled  by  their  master  who  was  a  great 
lover  of  those  animals.  Some  one  stepped  out  upon 
the  porch  to  greet  me  —  my  host  himself.  Stately, 
ruddy  with  health,  contented,  and  happy  —  who  would 
have  recognized  in  this  brawny  fellow  the  sick  man 
dying  of  supposed,  though  never  really  existing,  con- 
sumption? "Only  that  leg  of  mine  still  gives  me 
trouble,"  he  says;  "  I  can  not  walk  even  slowly  without 
limping.  Well,  that  is  nothing  —  I  am  not  an  infantry- 
man." 

Natalia  Martinovna,  having  abandoned  at  last  her 
half-mourning,  half-monastic  costume  of  a  Sister  of 
Mercy,  was  still  more  improved  in  looks. 

It  only  remains  for  us  to  wish  all  three  of  them  in  the 
future  such  contentment  and  happiness  as  they  enjoy 
at  present,  and  which  —  to  draw  a  moral  —  they  have 
fully  deserved. 

Very  recently  I  happened  to  come  in  contact  with 
still  another  hero  of  my  tale;  during  the  present  winter 
in  St.  Petersburg. 

I  happened  to  turn  into  Borelli's  for  supper.  At  one 
of  the  tables,  still  covered  with  the  remnants  of  a  luxu- 
rious preliminary  course,  sat  several  officers  —  if  their 
lounging  attitude  may  be  designated  as  sitting.  They 
were  awaiting  the  supper  they  had  ordered,  and  passing 
the  time  in  badinage  not  altogether  devoid  of  "  res- 
taurant "  witticisms. 

"Yes,  gentlemen,"  one  of  the  officers  continued  a 
story  he  was  relating;  "yes,  that  was  an  exalted,  ardent 
love,  entirely  disinterested  and  self-sacrificing." 


EPILOGUE.  321 

"  You  should  have  brought  her  here,  Sergei!  "  inter- 
rupted another,  straightening  out  his  lanky  figure. 

"Well,  I  found  she  was  foolish.  She  was  bound  to 
the  steppe  and  could  not  think  of  going  anywhere  else. 
What  could  I  have  done  here  with  this  '  Gretchen'  ? " 

"All  right!"  shouted  a  third  listener.  "Gentlemen, 
make  room!  Here  comes  our  lobster —  a  monster,  a 
colossus'.  Make  room ! " 

"And  then,"  continued  the  officer  telling  the  story, 
"  my  Don  Juanic  adventures  in  Central  Asia  came  to  a 
close  with  a  very  singular  experience,  which  might  have 
resulted  very  disagreeably  to  me.  They  were  six  men 
—  I  was  alone.  I  conceded  them  the  right  of  the  first 
fire.  I  waited.  Six  pistol-barrels  were  aimed  at  me. 
I  must  frankly  acknowledge  that  I  do  not  consider 
myself  a  coward,  but  to  see  six  such  black  little  open- 
ings gaping  before  you  is,  to  say  the  least,  disagreeable. 
I  looked  at  my  watch.  The  first  report  came  —  the  ball 
almost  grazed  my  temple;  the  second,  also  the  third, 
missed  —  I  did  not  even  hear  the  bullets;  the  fourth 
struck  the  sand  and  covered  me  with  dust;  the  fifth 
went  somewhere  over  my  head;  the  sixth  shattered  my 
revolver. 

"'Gentlemen,'  I  said,  'fate  has  saved  you!'  and  dis- 
played to  them  my  disabled  weapon.  '  Let  us  hope 
that  all  misunderstandings  between  us  are  at  an  end! ' 
They  shouted  'hurrah!'  threw  themselves  upon  me, 
lifted  me  upon  their  hands  and  prepared  to  toss  me  up 
in  triumph  —  a  foolish  custom  they  have.  Then  they 
went  to  drinking  like  swine;  but  I  came  back  to  St. 
Petersburg  —  I  was  tired  of  savage  life!  " 

"Are  you  not  lying,  Sergei'?"  curiously  interrupted 
some  skeptic.  Sergei  Nikolai'evitch  only  shrugged  his 
shoulders  contemptuously. 


322  THE    TWO-LEGGED    WOLF. 

The  Tartar  waiter,  in  swallow-tail  coat  and  white 
necktie,  brought  a  tray  with  some  covered  dishes  — 
and  the  gentlemen  began  to  satisfy  their  fastidious 
stomachs. 


THE    END. 


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